Problem Solving 101
by Cynlee
Summary: Sevenyearold Donnie sets out to prove that he would, too, know Adventure if it bit him on the ass!
1. Chapter 1

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Yes! I am still working on "Ghosts"-- that is either good news or bad news depending on who you are... but I have been wanting to do a chibi fic again-- And thanks to Terran for beta work-- but do NOT blame me for the delay in her own writing...

TMNT belong, sadly enough, to Mirage-- but I'll tell you, if I were the owner, then there'd be a different turn of events TV show/wise!

**Problem Solving 101**

No one, not even Splinter, disputed that Donatello was probably the brightest of the Turtles-- indeed, Splinter was constantly kept on his toes by the intelligence of this child.

Even Don had to admit that when it came to many things to do with technology, science, math-- well, everything apart from what they learned in the dojo-- that he was top student hands down. Even Raph admitted that Don was the only one who could beat him at mental multiplication, and Raph was no slouch, having held the title of Math Champ for eight weeks straight when they had reached that part of the school lessons.

Yep, Don was definitely the smart one-- no one denied that; no one resented that.

So how is it that the "smart one" found himself in this mess?

Trapped in an unused tunnel, leg pinned when his foot had gone through a crumbled spot of floor, bringing down more debris from the ceiling, coating him in dirt and dust and cobwebs and fear, Don repeatedly asked himself as he tried to keep from crying _How the heck did I get into this mess?_

Because you acted like a baby, he answered himself finally. _Because despite your brains, you still acted like a baby, not like a seven year old!_

Don sat still and almost gave himself up to misery.

_It's funny how three stray phrases can make you act like a jerk_, he sighed to himself, leaning his head against the wall of the tunnel and closing his eyes.

He had become so involved with his projects lately! They had found so much neat stuff at the junkyard recently that he had been busy helping his father improve their lives! AND he had found the Holy Grail of items, the one thing he and his brothers had been searching for since they'd seen one on TV-- a video game system!

It was battered, and soiled, but its parts were intact. Donnie knew that something must be wrong with it or it wouldn't be there, but over the past few months he had found partially destroyed systems and, like the good little scavenger he was, he had harvested as much undamaged circuit boards and wires and other things, partly to study, partly to save against the day when he might actually find this!

And now he had!

Day after day he struggled, building, rebuilding, testing, retesting-- one lucky day it actually played for a half hour, and then the game had froze-- back to the drawing board.

The frustration was that he had NOT told his brothers what he was doing. This was going to be a surprise! He had nearly begged his father on his knees to let him surprise them with this.

Splinter, against his better judgment, acquiesced, partly because Donatello rarely asked for anything special, and mainly because this was something he was doing for his brothers. After much work, he had fixed up the closet in his own room as a special "laboratory/workroom" for the enthusiastic turtle (complete with a small TV set for testing out the system).

Though the others did NOT know about that aspect of the situation, the mere fact that Don had been given his own special secret place in Sensei's room had been viewed with MUCH displeasure by all the turtles in general and Raphael in particular.

"How is that fair?" he had protested in a loud voice, tail still sore from his going into Splinter's room without permission just a few days before. "You say that your room is private, and then you let Don use your closet!"

"That is because it is **mine** to do with as I see fit," Splinter sternly replied, and the tone of voice was enough to warn Raphael that his tail was still in danger of a spanking.

Don hadn't **thought** that he was neglecting his brothers! He didn't play with them as much, sure, but he wasn't IGNORING them!

His brothers, on the other hand, thought that Don had rather abandoned them lately. Their words of today proved this. As he sat there, dust clogging his delicate nostrils, ears cringing at every stray and possibly dangerous sound, grimy and cold and scared and sad and possibly injured, he began to think about what he had heard earlier in the day... all of the hurtful things he had overheard...

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"Leo, Donnie won't play with me," Mikey said, dragging out the board games. "And I'm not allowed to watch TV until after supper. I'm bored!"

Leo, trying to read "_The Art of War_" (Splinter had found a fairly decent copy for himself, and the Turtle had begged to be allowed to borrow it, determined to read it despite the fact it was an adult book), sighed.

"I'm reading," he said.

Mikey frowned.

"That looks boring! That looks like something Don would read," he said, spreading out the games in a manner he thought would tantalize his oldest brother. "It looks boring and very hard!"

"Well, some of the words **are **hard, and Don has had to help me," Leo carefully admitted, "but this is not a 'Don' type of book."

"What's it about?"

"How to make war," Leo responded. Mikey snorted.

"Raph musta wrote that book! He's good at making war. Are there a lot of pictures?"

"No."

"What? An Art book, and there are no pictures? That don't make sense. The title says '_The Art of War_'... there should be some pictures of fighting!"

Leo sighed, head dizzy from Mikey-logic.

"I don't know why you wanna read when we could be playing a game," Mikey went on. "Come on, Leo! You're acting like Don! Don't be a 'Don', be a 'Mikey'! Play with me!"

Normally he would have told Mikey a final "no", but lately he, too, had noticed that Don was avoiding his brothers' company. He had been working on a theory for why, but he had so far kept it to himself. Plus, Mikey's words had hit rather close to a plan Leo had been working on, and he didn't want to risk revealing more.

Mikey fell quiet and stared at Leo with his trademark "puppy dog eyes", not making any sound, but managing to plead volumes just the same. That clinched it. Somewhat reluctantly he closed his book and joined his brother on the floor.

"What's wrong with him anyways?" Mikey continued, as they got ready to play one of games deemed more "suitable" by Leo (_"I am NOT playing 'Candyland', Mikey! That game is for babies!" "But the candies look so yummy! I wish we could LIVE in Candyland!"_). "He always used to play these games with me, and now he wants to work on his top secret project."

"Haven't **you** found out what it is yet?" Leo asked, waiting patiently for Mikey to roll the dice. In this case, "patiently" was the operative word; Mikey rolling dice was quite a performance, as he had many special rituals designed to insure a good result. Raph had NO patience for it, which is why any games requiring dice were played with Don or Leo or Master Splinter (and even the wise Rat had been known to fidget and sigh in frustration once in a great while!).

Mikey, in the middle of his "Give me a twelve o please o please o please" routine, shook his head.

The dice came up "eight".

"Shoot! You distracted me!" he grumbled, moving his piece around the board. "Nope, I tried everything, but so far I can't find out what he's doing. He don't talk to you?"

"Not lately," Leo said, casually tossing the dice and coming up with a twelve-- much to the displeasure of his little brother. "He doesn't **want** to talk to me anymore."

"Sometimes I feel like not talkin' to you anymore," Raph interrupted, coming in from the kitchen where he had finally finished his writing assignment for Splinter (a long long very very long long theme entitled "The Way of Privacy and Why I Should NOT Snoop Around in Master Splinter's Room Looking for a Flashlight to Play a Joke on Michelangelo!"). "For craps sake, Mikey, throw the stupid dice!"

"Language, Raph."

"Stuff it, Leo."

"Have YOU found out what he's up to?" Mikey, after doing the "I REALLY need a twelve pirouette" throw of the dice-- and getting a three-- asked his brother. "There's something wrong with the dice-- I think someone has put an evil spell on them!"

Raph was so tempted to express a view on the cursing of dice, but Leo was in charge while Splinter was gone, and Raph had already spent enough time writing. He did not wish to do any more. So he kept his comments to himself and focused on the topic to hand: Donatello.

"Nope. I started to sneak in to spy on him-- but then I remembered the last time I went in Splinter's room," he said without elaborating. "And I don't wanna be in trouble for something that ain't worth it. That essay was two thousand words! I didn't know there was so many words!"

Leo tossed another high number, ignoring the scowl of a frustrated little brother who grabbed the dice, inspecting them as if they were somehow "fixed".

"I don't know-- it seems like he just doesn't want to be around us any more," Leo mused, debating if he could still read while playing this game. Mikey was about to launch into some new, more "powerful" rituals in an attempt to get some high rolls, and it promised to take a lot of time. "I tried to get him to stay out here with us today, and he wouldn't even say one word!"

"What can be so facinatin'?" Raph wondered, flopping down onto the couch and lazily turn on the TV.

"I can't watch TV!" Mikey shouted, suddenly grabbing the remote and switching off the set. "I can't watch TV, and I don't wanna go to my room while you watch TV!"

"Man! YOU get grounded off the TV, and I'm the one whose gotta suffer!" Raph protested, but he made no attempt to get up and impose his will on the situation. Truth was, he was more interested in figuring out why Don had been avoiding them.

"DARN IT! A TWO!" Mikey nearly quit the game; SOMEONE had jinxed his dice but good! "Oh, maybe Don is planning an adventure!" he said, switching topics as easily as he switched on the lights. "And Splinter's letting him 'cause he's so much smarter than us-- especially Raphy," he couldn't help adding, even though his brother managed to bap him one while he was still lying on the couch.

"Don planning an adventure?" he snorted mirthfully. "Don's almost worse than Leo for stayin' outta trouble! He wouldn't know adventure if it bit him on the ass!"

"Raphael, watch your language or I'll have to tell Splinter!" Leo reprimanded him in his best "I'm in charge 'cause I'm the oldest" voice, but Raph as usual made a rude sound with his mouth in response to this threat.

True, he did NOT want another punishment; Splinter had threatened-- no, PROMISED-- him that last time, when he'd used some words he'd heard on a late-night movie, that Raphael would stop swearing or Splinter would try the punishment some human parents resorted to-- washing out his mouth with soap!

"Seriously, Don is planning something," Leo went on, picking up his book as he waited for Mikey to find a different set of uncursed dice. "But he sure doesn't want his own brothers to know. I think-- well, I think he doesn't want us as brothers anymore. Not to play with, anyway..."

Mikey, in the middle of inspecting various combinations of dice, froze and stared with disbelief at Leo.

"Not-- not want us..."

"Leo, you don't know that," Raph quickly sat up on the couch, concerned for all of them-- but especially Mikey. Mikey could be very sensitive at times about family and all that mushy stuff. "He's just being Don."

"No, he's not. He's being 'Donatello'," Leo said, warming up to the lecture he was about to give. He'd been thinking on this topic for a long time, and he now felt that it was time to share.

After all, he was the oldest-- he may not be **smart** like Don, but he was very wise for his age. He'd seen a lot in his seven years, and as the oldest, it was his job to figure these things out.

"See, I have a theory. Don-- I mean, Donatello-- has developed differently from the rest of us. We're still kids in our minds, but Donatello has become an adult."

Now two pair of eyes stared at Leo as if he'd sprouted another tail.

"You know how he is always the one Sensei goes to if there is something to be figured out with the wiring or the gas or some other thing that helps us live so well," Leo went on, nodding wisely. "Adults go to other adults-- they don't go to kids. Sensei goes to Don for a lot of stuff-- been doing that even more this past year. That means that, inside his head, Donatello is an adult."

Raph drew in a noisy breath, held it-- and then burst out laughing, nearly falling off the couch in the process.

"Donnie ain't a grown-up in his mind," he gasped at Leo, who was very affronted by this reception to his well-thought out theory, but struggling to maintain his dignity. "Come on, Leo, that is impossible! We may have mutated and not be normal, and Don may be smarter, but he ain't no adult! That's a stupid theory!"

"It's not stupid!" Leo responded heatedly. "I've been researching it!"

"Researching?" Raph laughed even harder. "What kind of 'researching' have YOU been doing? You ain't Don!"

"I'll have you know that there is more on TV than 'Fantastic Four' cartoons and 'Sesame Street'," Leo responded loftily, striking at two of Raphael's most favorite of shows (though "Sesame Street" was supposed to be a well-guarded secret from Mikey and Don! Raph suddenly grew red in the face as he realized that his brother had broken an oath of honor!). "There's shows about development! Don is 'gifted'--"

"Gifted? Who gifted him?" Mikey wanted to know. He was having a hard time following his brother's logic, but the word "gift" he understood. "Splinter gave him a gift as well as let him have his own secret private only him allowed space?"

"I mean he's developed faster in the mind than we have," Leo clarified, ignoring the glowering glare of Raphael. "He's become an adult, probably 'cause of the ooze-- and all that reading he does and stuff has helped him to become more and more grownup in his mind. Now he's an 'adult' in his mind, and doesn't have time to play games or hang with us."

"I don't believe it!" Raph insisted. "I think you're fulla crap, Leo! You been practicin' katas too hard! You musta fell outta the bed again--"

"I don't fall out of the bed!"

"Yeah, right! You forget who helps you get back in, don'tcha?" Raph smirked, having revealed one of Leo's well-kept secrets that **he** had sworn an oath of honor on to protect. "Leo, you're nuts! Don ain't turned into no adult!"

But Leo was stubborn. He just HAD to be right-- Donatello, by reading Splinter's books, had become an adult in his mind. Leo just had to be right about this-- he'd been reading Splinter's books as well-- he'd been trying his hardest to be come an "adult" like Donatello-- he had secret dreams of helping Splinter with the training; of becoming an assistant Sensei! Don helped Splinter; why couldn't he?

He just HAD to be right! Otherwise, why try his darnedest to get through this book?

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I mean, it has NO pictures at all!

"Splinter goes to Don because Don can do it," Raph pointed out sensibly. "Don's learned about stuff from Splinter 'cause he's interested-- and now he's better at it than Splinter. THAT'S why Sensei goes to him for stuff!"

"But-- but-- but **why **don't he want us as brothers anymore?" Mikey hesitantly asked, and now Raph grew quiet. "He always used to play with me-- now its 'Mikey, go away, I'm busy'."

"He always said that before, Mikey," Raph reminded him. But Mikey shook his head.

"That was different. When he said it them times, he didn't mean it really-- and he was always doing his secret stuff right where we could see it, even though it was top secret! Always! NOW when he says it-- and he locks himself in Splinter's room-- and he won't answer me even when I stand there forever and ever calling to him--"

And Mikey looked as if he couldn't make up his mind to cry or be angry-- or both! Don had abandoned him! Had abandoned them all!

And after all he and Don had been through together! **This** is the gratitude Donnie repays Mikey with! Well, he'd show HIM! Ha! Doesn't want HIM as a brother any more? Sweet, cute, adorable, wonderful, loyal Michelangelo, not wanted by dumb old know-it-all poopy-headed "adult" Donatello? HA!

"That is it," Mikey said, standing up, games, cursed dice, the past forgotten. "I swear, on my oath of honor, that only Raph and Leo are my bestest brothers in the world and the onlyest favorite brothers I have period! I will swear a **keppan!**"

"Umm... Mikey?" Leo finally broke the stunned silence that this emotional outburst of their baby brother had resulted in, "umm.. you KNOW That means a 'blood oath', right?"

Mikey, fire in his eyes, nodded fiercely. He stood there, trembling all over, fists clenched, resolve hardened...

"... 'cause you KNOW that means you gotta sign it with your own blood," Leo continued. "And that means you gotta cut your thumb or finger or..."

"I'll get the knife!" Raph shouted gleefully, jumping up to go to the kitchen.

Quick as he was, Mikey was quicker, and in a blur of motion he tackled his brother and sat on him, preventing him from going further.

"Well, okay-- NOT a **keppan**," he decided, oblivious to the angry cries of Raph to "get offa me you dumbass! I'm gonna kill you!". "But I DO mean it!"

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Don sneezed, jerking awake-- evidently he had dozed off while thinking of how he'd gotten here.

Forlornly he studied his situation again. The flashlight he'd been carrying still was working. He wondered how long it would last. He didn't like to admit, but being in the dark in a strange and scary place was NOT something he wanted to experience!

He had to go to the bathroom. He was thirsty. He was hurting. His tail was falling asleep from enforced sitting on debris of all kinds. And he was longing for a way to contact his father and have him come rescue him, and at the same time fighting off the tears of reality, knowing that it wasn't doing him any good to wish for stuff like that...

Yet those words of Mikey's echoed throughout his misery, and in spite of his predicament, the hurt his brother's words overtook the growing pain in his tummy and (more importantly) his trapped leg.

_"I swear, on my oath of honor, that only Raph and Leo are my bestest brothers in the world and the onlyest favorite brothers I have period!"_

Don, being the brainy seven year old he was, began to cry...

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AN: Okay, normally I do not put stuff at the bottom, but I needed to explain that HOW Don overheard this stuff and what leads him into this trouble will be revealed in the next chapter! If you got this far, thanks for reading-- I do not say that enough-- I really mean it when i say thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

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Thanks for the reviews and the kind words as usual! And thanks to Machias Banshee and Splinter for the use of "Akio"-- a term that they have Splinter call Donatello lot in their RPs. TMNT are the property of Mirage. I wish and I wish and I wish, but you know how that is...

He must have cried for several minutes, and then he managed to get himself back under control.

"I need to solve this problem," he said aloud, more for the sake of hearing a voice than for any other reason.

Once again he studied his situation. He was near the wall of the old tunnel. His left leg was through the floor, up to the knee. When he had gone through, he thought the entire thing would give way, but this hole was just a small weak spot in the floor. The rest of it appeared to be solid and sound.

Under normal circumstances, he should have been able to pull it out again, even though he had fallen hard and twisted the knee so that it throbbed. But debris from the roof had been set loose when he jarred the place with his fall, and for a few minutes the choking dust and dirt and bits of crumbling wall had overwhelmed him-- and had managed to help lodge his leg in further.

As he had sat up, sneezing the dust out of his nose and wiping his tearing eyes with one hand, he felt his foot come in contact with some pipes. It felt as if his ankle was wedged between two pipes of some sort, small and rough and probably rusted.

Carefully he tried to pull his leg out of the hole-- but a sharp pain in his ankle, coupled with a sharp pain in his knee caused him to cry out as any seven year old would!

He calmed down and tried to think.

The knee must be sprained, he thought, gingerly touching it with both hands, trying to feel it the way Splinter had taught him to during first aid lessons. It felt very tender to the touch, but he didn't think it was broken.

But his ankle! There was no way he could reach through to feel it. Heck, he had tried to see if he could spot it through the hole, shining his flashlight down around his knee-- but the hole was just large enough for his leg, and he was unable to really get a look into it.

Twisting the rest of his body around to sit propped with his shell against the wall, drawing his right leg up so that he could lean his head on his knee, he tried to think about what to do.

After a few minutes, he carefully wiggled his toes. Pain was the result; pain in the ankle, but he was able to move them. _That was a good sign_, he thought.

Then, so very carefully, so very cautiously and slowly, he tried rotating his foot back and forth in small circles.

Again, the pain shot through him, but he could move it somewhat. By doing this he could feel the pipes on both sides of his ankle. His foot had gone in, but he couldn't get it out-- the ankle must have swollen rapidly.

He remembered when Leo had sprained his ankle earlier in the year. _ They'd been playing around, practicing ninja jumps off the top bunk (a no-no, but hey, they were kids!), and Leo had made a careless landing, twisting his foot and falling to the floor, and they had watched in horror as the ankle puffed up before their eyes._

"It's gonna blow!" Mikey had cried out in horror, covering his eyes and running to hide behind the bunk bed before "chunks of Leo coat us all with blood and gore! EEEEEWWWWWWWWW!"

"Shoot! If it wasn't swollen I could get out of here!" he groused, sitting there in the dirt and dust and dark, the flashlight his only source of illumination. "This is all their faults! They were mean to me, and all I wanted to do was surprise them with a video game system! Stupid brothers! Stupid Mikey with his stupid oath of stupid honor! Who needs him? Who needs any of them?

He started crying again, trying not to but failing miserably, as the words came back to torment him...

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It's amazing what you can overhear by not meaning to...

Coming out of his "very own top secret him only no one else but Splinter allowed" laboratory for a well-deserved bathroom break, Don had registered the fact that Mikey was trying to convince Leo to play a board game. He heard Mikey complain about Don's not playing with him anymore, and could recognize the hurt in his little brother's voice.

He knew that they were all unhappy with him at the moment, but honestly once they found out what he was working on, they'd be so kissing his shell!

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"Why do you not just tell them, my son?" Splinter had asked, when Donatello had begun to notice that his brothers were growing more and more frustrated with the brainy turtle.

"Because I want to surprise them! I can take it, really!" he had replied.

But it had been hard. Raph had just recently quit talking to him, even refusing to pass stuff at the table to him, always saying that he "didn't hear nothin'" when reprimanded by Splinter for not answering Donatello's requests.

Leo had tried to get him to do stuff-- even today he had tried to get Don to stay in the living room: _"Don, I'm in charge, and I say you HAVE to stay out with us today!"_-- but that is how he'd been dealing with Don lately, as a "boss" not a "brother", and Don refused to be bossed into interacting with any of them.

Mikey was the only one who still actively sought him out, who still treated him like a brother, who whined and pleaded and cajoled to no end, calling him his favoritest brother, reminding him of all they'd gone through together-- and no matter how many times Don told him "no", Mikey kept on trying and trying.

He hated to keep telling him "no", but this was so important. And Mikey was gonna LOVE this surprise! They ALL were going to love it!

So, just as Don was entering the bathroom, it shook him quite a bit to hear Mikey speak the first phrase that Don over heard; the first of three phrases that had led him to become trapped in an old unused tunnel.

"Come on, Leo! You're acting like Don! Don't be a 'Don'! Be a 'Mikey'! Play with me!"

Don entered the bathroom. Neither of them had noticed that Don had been nearby when Mikey had said what he had said.

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Don't be a "Don"? What is wrong with being a "Don"?

He went about his business, wondering why he was feeling so strange.

In the living room, if he listened carefully, he could hear them talking.

If he listened carefully, that is.

It was a strain. He could hear noises that indicated that Mikey was doing some of his "lucky throw" routines, but little else. He did hear when Raph entered the room. And he heard enough to know they were discussing his secret project and hadn't any of them found it out just yet.

There was much discussion, and the sound of the TV and shouting about being grounded off the TV... and then Mikey's guess that Don was planning an adventure...

... and the second hurtful phrase was uttered, this time by Raph:

"Don's almost worse than Leo for stayin' outta trouble! He wouldn't know adventure if it bit him on the ass!"

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"Wouldn't know..."

I would SO know adventure if it bit me on the ass, which it wouldn't but that's not the point! I do SO know "adventure"!

Though it was true; he did tend to stay out of trouble, like Leo. It was only at those rare times when he'd give in to Mikey or Raphy-- or on those really RARE occasions Leo (when Leo was trying to prove that he, too, could get into trouble), that Don would end up with a grounding or a spanking. He did tend to stay out of it on his own...

Now he realized that Leo was expounding on a theory that Don was really an adult-- and he nearly gave himself away with laughter. Fortunately, Raph's laugh shook the entire lair, and nicely covered up his own mirthful response.

But then, the final hateful phrase was spoken, and Don felt his heart freeze up in his chest and then shatter into a million billion billion pieces:

Mikey: "I swear, on my oath of honor, that only Raph and Leo are my bestest brothers in the world and the onlyest favorite brothers I have period! I will swear a **keppan!**"

Somehow, Don got from the bathroom to Splinter's room without being detected. Leo was too distracted by his efforts to keep Raph from killing Mikey for first tackling and then sitting on him to notice the bathroom door open or the slam of Splinter's door shortly afterwards.

Don crawled up into Sensei's rocking chair and hugged his knees to him, wishing that his father was home right now.

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"Why do you not just tell them, my son?" he could hear it again, as if Splinter were there at that moment.

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Why not? Maybe then they would take back their hateful words--

But they don't know that I heard them. I can't tell them I heard them. They would call me an eavesdropper.

Which, I guess, I am, but still...

After a bit, he reluctantly returned to work, more determined than ever to succeed with this project, and imagining the kind, worshiping things his brothers would be saying for many many days...

The system was still on-- part of his test was to pause the game while he went to the bathroom. He had only meant for it to be paused for a few minutes, but circumstances had kept him away longer than planned. To his great joy, it not only unpaused with no trouble, but allowed him to continue the game!

YES! Victory! SWEET SWEET Victory! This was going to be---

In his joy he jumped up and down-- and landed on the second set of controllers that just happened to by lying there...

NOOOOOOOO!

HOW he kept from shouting out and alerting his brothers he didn't know! But he did; oh, it was a painful struggle, but he did!

He quickly examined the damage-- his feet were unhurt, but the controllers were smashed beyond repair-- and it broke his heart! He had been so lucky to find a system with FOUR controllers-- now he was left with two.

He almost gave himself up to complete and utter misery, and then he took a deep breath, calming down as Splinter had taught him to in the early days when he could feel his frustration level rising.

"Calm down, Donnie... this is nothing bad. This is just a setback. We can go to the dump and get some more-- there are plenty of working controllers-- humans are so wasteful-- calm down--"

Then he remembered; Splinter was not going to the dump again for a whole week. He had already made several unscheduled trips there solely for the benefit of Donatello, and the last time they had been nearly spotted. It had taken the immeasurable and fantastic skills of his Sensei to keep the junkyard dog from following them to their entrance, from catching Donatello and turning him into Turtle-flavored Kibble!

AND he had said that next time, Donatello would not be going-- not until Splinter could be sure that the dog would not cause any more trouble.

"He won't know what to look for," Donnie said aloud. "Splinter won't worry about the controllers, and I know where to look. He'll be busy getting the necessary stuff, and he can't carry extra stuff..."

As he gathered the pieces up to dispose of them, Raph's words suddenly echoed in his ears:

"He wouldn't know adventure if it bit him on the ass."

The idea was born from the situation and those eleven painful, hateful words... born full-blown and ready for action, like that Greek goddess he read about in that mythology book, who sprang from the king of the gods' head, fully grown and dressed in armor, ready for battle...

He knew the way perfectly. He even believed that he knew a short cut-- he remembered seeing the tunnel on one of their many trips, and once at the dump, he believed he had found the entrance to the other end... he was certain that it would cut many minutes off of their usual time if they could use it...

He'd been studying the maps that Splinter had made of the system, and he was almost certain that the disused tunnel was indeed a short cut. But he had refrained from mentioning it-- he had wanted to surprise Splinter with his discovery...

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Don shivered in the dark tunnel, clutching the flashlight as if it were his father.

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There was something rather... oh... BAD... about wanting to surprise others, he thought forlornly. _It seemed to cause nothing but trouble._

"FATHER!" he suddenly shouted, long and loud and accompanied by many tears. "FATHER! Please help me!"

He sobbed, hugging himself as best as he could, trying to ignore the scary echoes that played on his imagination, the scrabbling sounds of what might be rats or might be monsters-- they stayed out of the glow of his flashlight, held in shaky hands.

"Please find me," he whispered, eyes squeezed shut, imagining and imagining Splinter looking everywhere for him-- searching and searching-- until he found his _Akio_-- until he found his "bright boy"...


	3. Chapter 3

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Stickers! I loved them when I was first teaching-- but now it's expensive and hard to come by-- though I LOVES me the TMNT ones, and don't get them enough. Anyway, I am pretty sure that the stickers I mention in this story existed years ago (for all of you sticklers for timelines and when is now and then and stuff...) and anyway, it's my story, so if I want to use them I will.

TMNT are the property of Mirage. I own some nifty TMNT stickers.

Don had a problem: he had two controllers and three brothers.

Three angry at Donatello brothers--

Okay, he had TWO problems.

The angry brothers problem would solve itself if he were to call all three into the room at that moment and spring the marvelous game system on them!

But then-- who would be the first two to play?

Donnie knew that Leo and Raph would insist on being first, Leo a TINY bit more politely than Raph, but still rather pushy-- Leo took such things like being "oldest" seriously, and he rarely let anyone forget that he was, age/wise, the oldest...

Raph would be first regardless of anything-- he was just like that. For some reason, Raph's being the way he was did not grate on Don's shell the way that Mr. "I'm the oldest brother, you must do what I say" Leonardo grated--

HOWEVER, at the moment Mikey had a huge chip on his shoulder regarding his "former brother" Donatello, and if Mikey could be the first to play, with Don at the other controller, then Donnie would once again be Mikey's favoritest and bestest brother in the whole world, and things would be back to normal.

But, he knew, he just **knew**, that Mikey did not stand a chance of being first-- unless he told Mikey by himself first-- and risk the other two being even more angry--

Okay-- THREE PROBLEMS!

Don had a bunch of character stickers, all brand-new but still tossed away in a dumpster behind a teachers supply store, that Splinter had been raiding for the past few years, looking for whatever he could salvage and use in educating his sons (as well as himself).

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"Why did they throw all these cool things away?" Don had asked, as the others "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed over their share of the items.

"Because they are out of fashion, and did not sell," Splinter had replied. "Sometimes instead of giving things away, the humans simply throw things away-- even food," he added, thinking of the many grocery stores that disposed of many food items that could feed the homeless-- and did feed his sons!

When Donnie had found the controllers, he had dug out his treasured stickers and "customized" each one, so each brother would have his very own controller that only he could use.

On Raph's was the Incredible Hulk© and the Thing© from Don's precious super hero stash. Raph had soooo wanted those (when Mikey had "accidentally" destroyed his in that unfortunate incident with the milk and the pillow fight), but he never could find anything good enough to trade for them. Don knew that Raph would be excited that his two favorites were on his controller!

For Leo's Don had managed to put a Luke Skywalker© sticker, and right below it a sticker of a lightsaber! "Star Wars" was his brother's favorite movie, and Luke Skywalker his favorite character. He had been lucky to have gotten these (and keep them secret from Leo-- it was HIS favorite movie as well...).

For Mikey's he had put Spiderman© and Superman©. Mikey liked all superheroes, and wanted to be one. He wouldn't have cared if Wonder Woman was on his controller, as long as it was superheroes in really cool costumes with capes and muscles and gadgets and looking all really heroic!

And for Don?

DINOSAURS!

NOTHING was cooler than DINOSAURS-- except the PLANETS, but those stickers were too big, so dinosaurs it had to be. He had two stickers that were just the right size, and he was happy as anything with how they fit onto the controller, almost looking as if they were chatting with each other!

But now-- with only two controllers left, and those two so branded as the property of Leo and Raph, Don knew that he was going to have to find a different solution.

He needed two new controllers!

"Splinter won't know what to look for, or where to look," he rationalized out loud as he stared at the broken controllers that tended to mock him with the symbolism of the situation... the damaged forms of the dinosaurs and the superheroes reflected the current status of his relationship with Mikey... "He can't waste time looking for toys. He had to find stuff to take care of us with. And he won't let me come with him because of the dog."

Don thought about that last time-- he actually had done a pretty good job on his own of escaping the evil beast, but he had had to admit, having Father there to make sure he had not become dog food made all the difference.

Still...

He was fast. He was clever! AND he would carry a weapon!

He made up his mind, and then shut out any more rational thought! Given the chance, his inner-Don would talk him out of this venture, but at the moment Donnie only "listened" to two facts as it were, playing them over and over in his brain: "Mikey doesn't like me anymore" and "Don wouldn't know Adventure if it bit him on the ass!"

"Well, I'll show you, Mr. Raphael!" he whispered fiercely, locking his secret lab up and using all his ninja skills to sneak out of Splinter's room and into his own. "I'll show you all, and then you will HAVE to apologize!"

Quickly, quietly, he retrieved his bag for carrying really cool and nifty items from the junk yard. He was only going for the controllers, but one never knew what "that's just what I need for that invention" item might be accidentally stumbled over!

Next, he scoped out the situation in the living room, standing at the door of the bedroom, listening.

Mikey was in the kitchen; he knew this because Leo was shouting at him to "get out of the refrigerator, Splinter said NO snacks!"

Leo and Raph were on the couch, watching TV-- which also explained why Mikey was in the kitchen, as he was grounded from watching until after supper.

"But if I gotta stay in here, I need something to do," Mike was arguing. "And if I got nothing to do, I get hungry! Eating gives me something to do since I can't watch TV! OOOOOH! Turn it up! That's my favorite part!"

"Mikey, you ain't allowed to watch!" Raph shouted, trying to enjoy the show.

"Splinter said I couldn't watch, he didn't say I couldn't LISTEN!"

A pause; then the volume went up.

So much the better! That would help Don get past the two on the couch. He needed to get into the dojo, and he needed to be as stealthy as possible. The sounds of battle from the big fight scene, coupled with the encouraging shouts of all three brothers (Mikey had seen this particular show a gazillion times and could-- and did-- quote everyone's dialogue as well as recreate each and every sound effect) masked any noise made by the soft canvas bag as Don slid on his belly down the hall, behind the couch, and into the dojo!

Success! HA! Adventure was getting a taste of Donnie's rear end!

He had little time. Quickly he surveyed the weapons rack. The bo was fast becoming his favorite of the weapons, but it was still too large for him. Yet he knew he needed something strong, easy to carry, yet versatile for any situation. The bokken might due, but he may need to poke through piles of junk...

AH! The JO! It was smaller than the Bo, and Don was learning how to handle it at a faster rate than even the mighty Leonardo! It would be perfect-- he knew it packed a wallop (having accidentally brained Raph once during a difficult spinning maneuver-- man, that lump was so huge Mikey was convinced that Raph was growing another head), and it would be perfect for levering things and poking things!

He decided to gear up, and soon, dressed in pads, belt, and nifty ninja mask, he was ready!

Peering out of the dojo, he saw that Raph was no where on the couch, and Leo's voice was coming from the kitchen, yelling at Mikey about all the food he had wasted.

A flushing sound clued him to the missing brother's location.

Out of the dojo, straight to the door, he opened it as wide as he dared, nipped through, and shut it without a sound!

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Yes! How do you like the taste of my hiney, Adventure? Tastes pretty sweet, doesn't it!

With all the confidence and bravado of a seven-year-old inventing genius who knew better than his father about the Way of Video Game Systems, Donatello set off at a jog, determined to make true what he was imagining in his mind: a swift and successful trip to the junk yard using the short cut he was sure he had discovered, a safe return home to unsuspecting family, and a surprise that was gonna make them all jump out of their shells!

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Splinter was tired. He had had a very successful day of scavenging, so successful that he would not need to go out again for many days! There had been a fire at a grocery warehouse the night before, and now that the insurance inspectors had finished, the more glamourous items that had survived were being distributed to homeless shelters and food banks with much fanfare and media coverage.

There was still quite a lot of food that was being tossed away, however, though it was just as good as the other items. The Rat had found filling his bags extremely easy, even though there was much competition from other scavengers; yet they all had a sort of code of honor about this situation; they looked out for each other, signaling warnings of the approach of the security guards whose sole purpose it seemed was to make sure that no one in need take what the company had thrown away.

They kept to themselves, covered up and quiet, with a nod here and there, and eventually they all managed to make a good haul.

Now Splinter was looking forward to getting home and ridding himself of his load of food as well as his disguise. Fortunately it was rather cold out, so no one noticed that he wore a muffler over a rather oddly shaped face. His tail was particularly tired of being cooped up in the uncomfortable outfit, and he had seriously considered shedding the trousers in order to allow it to be free, but he grudged the little time it would take to do this simple thing. He HAD to get home. He had left the four of them for longer than he had anticipated, and there was no telling what awaited him on the other side of the door.

"Come and help me!" he called as he entered with much satisfaction his home sweet home.

From all directions turtles came running, shouting their greetings and exclaiming over the amount of food that their father had managed to bring back, struggling to carry the items to the kitchen where the happy task of sorting and storing began, accompanied by the cheerful chatter of three boys who could not believe the luck Splinter had had today!

"Wow! These are the bestest cookies!" Mikey exclaimed, holding several packages as if they were his most precious possessions. "WHY would they throw them away?"

"My son, if I could explain the reasons surface dwellers behave as they do, I should be the wisest being in the World," Splinter laughed, gently relieving his son of the cookies and placing them up on the "Do not touch especially YOU Michelangelo" shelf where all special treats were stored.

"Look! It's that lucky cereal with the marshmallows! And it has a prize inside!" Raph shouted, nearly dancing with joy at the chance to eat something new. "And you got several boxes! Wow!"

"Yes, I figured that you might each want the toy inside, so I made sure to get enough for you all," Splinter smiled, pleased that he was able to bring so many unlooked for things home with him this time. It made the day seem like a special occasion when he was able to do such a thing-- he hated that it was hard to do it more often, but then, perhaps that was for the best. It had more meaning because it was such a rare occurrence.

"A lot of these cans have no dents in them," Leo observed, carefully sorting and stacking the soups and veggies and sauces. "The labels are still a bit wet, but you don't even smell and smoke on them or see any burn marks!"

"The fire was put out quickly, but the food was deemed 'unsellable'," Splinter told him, pulling off the boots that his poor tired feet had been cramped up in for so long. "I am going to rid myself of these clothes, and then we shall have a celebration dinner."

Then it occurred to him that he had only been talking with three sons.

"Where is Donatello?" he asked, looking around. "He should have come out to help us."

Three turtles made faces.

"MR. Donatello must still be in his secret laboratory," Michelangelo sniffed, busying himself with helping Leonardo put the canned goods away while Raphael gathered up Splinter's boots to set by the front door. "He hasn't come out the entire time you was gone."

Splinter could tell that the others were growing more and more angry with their brother's neglect of them, but he bit back a sigh-- along with a tired groan (it had been a long day), and arose to go to his room and change.

The boys finished up in the kitchen, chattering about the haul, when they heard a shout from Splinter.

"Donatello! Where are--"

Something about that tone of voice, something about that unfinished question, alerted them to the fact that something was definitely wrong!

They scrambled into the living room to nearly run into Splinter, still clothed in his disguise and looking almost frantic.

"Where is your brother?"

The three exchanged confused glances.

"He's in the--" Leo began, but Splinter cut him off.

"He is not in the room, or the bathroom or your bedroom," he said, quickly entering the dojo.

The Jo was missing-- Splinter saw that at once.

Quickly he ran back to his room, shedding the disguise on the way, leaving a trail of clothing. He got into his robe at once, grabbed his stick and his own little bag, a rope with a grappling hook, and a flashlight.

Spinning around to leave, he was blocked by three troubled turtles, the realization growing on their face that their brother was missing!

"I didn't hear him go, Sensei," Leo gulped, nervous tears beginning to stand out in his eyes. "I was in charge, but I didn't hear--"

"I have no time to listen my son," Splinter said as kindly as possible. "You three go into the living room and wait. I will find your brother. Michelangelo, you may make sandwiches for yourself and your brothers for your supper, and then you may watch television."

He herded them before him with gentle yet insistent hands, closing his door behind him.

"But how're you gonna find him?" Raph wanted to know. "Let me come with you! You're gonna need help! You don't know which way he went!"

"I believe I know exactly where he is off to," Splinter said, firmly refusing the help of his son. He had seen upon his entry into his room the broken controllers; he had fully aware of Donatello's insistence that there HAD to be four.

__

"Cause if there's four, then there's no fighting! I don't want to fix up this cool thing and then there's fighting over it. That's why I need four!"

Splinter pushed all thoughts of controllers and fighting and punishment from his mind even as he pushed his sons into the living room. He entered the kitchen long enough to fetch himself a canteen full of fresh water, and then headed for the door.

"My sons," he said, pausing a moment. "Stay in the lair. Leonardo is still in charge. You may wait up for us. I will find your brother and be home soon. Do not worry, my sons."

"Hai, Sensei," they automatically said, bowing as he left.

But worry they did.


	4. Chapter 4

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This chapter is all Don. He insisted on it. He forced me to do it. It's all Don's fault. Especially because it's so long.

TMNT are the property of Mirage. Still.

It was wonderful!

Don, walking fearlessly and cheerfully through the tunnels by himself, felt grown-up; indeed, he felt as grown-up as Leo had theorized earlier.

"Ah, Leo," he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as if he were the older brother listening to a much younger brother's views, "you are very imaginative-- and yet, not far from the truth I think."

The way was well-known to him, and Don was more than confident that he would get to the junk yard, quickly secure two perfect controllers, and return long before Splinter made it home!

Walking along, dressed in his battle gear, carrying the Jo stick, he felt invincible! He felt as if he were the bravest of the brave.

He felt NINJA!

YES! For the first time, he actually felt what (he imagined) it was like to be Ninja!

He began to stick to the shadows (easily done; the sewer tunnels were not well-lit, but still, one worked with what one had), leaping here and there to escape the notice of imaginary foe, moving stealthily-- so stealthily that he actually was able to approach one of the many sewer rats without its noticing him until the last possible second, and then he bolted before he could touch it with his Jo.

Then he began to "perform" a few of the _suburi_ that he'd mastered-- there were twenty in all, but he had only learned nine-- and still, he was ahead of even Leo in this respect!

He stopped for a moment, and got into position, starting with **Choku Tsuki**, the basic thrusting movement that was utilized in many of the **jo waza**.

__

"Very well, my sons; begin. You should be in **hidari hanmi**. Hold the jo resting on one end vertically on the mat immediately in front of your left foot... no, your LEFT foot, Michelangelo."

"Sorry, Sensei."

"Now, hold the jo with your left hand. Good. Reach down with your right hand to grasp the jo near its base. Your left hand should lift the jo as you do this. Look at me."

Donatello and the others watched as Splinter demonstrated with his walking stick, and Don immediately began the move, concentrating on Sensei's words rather than the slowness of the others to follow along.

"Slide your right hand down to the end as you bring the jo to a horizontal position, **tsuki no kame**. Slide the jo through your left hand back and then forwards, swinging your right hand up to the front of your center. Excellent! Now, slide both feet forward and lower your posture, and thrust forward! Hard! You want to hit your opponent, Leonardo, not poke him. Watch Donatello. Donatello, show Leonardo again!"

**Donatello**, show LEONARDO again!

Those had to be the three sweetest words he'd ever heard in a sentence!

Don had that lesson to heart. He'd been amazed that day when the four of them were first introduced to the lesson and that HE had won the gold star and the remote for mastering the moves!

In fact, Splinter had been so pleased that he'd pushed forward with the training, teaching them the next three moves in the series. Mikey had only managed by the end of that lesson to trip Raph up, smack Leo on the tail, and drop his Jo on Splinter's foot. Raph and Leo had each semi-mastered three of the four moves, but only by sheer determination after the fact that Don had mastered the first one before any of them did. Indeed, Leo had not been happy when Splinter had told Don to demonstrate for him, and had worn an almost Raph-like scowl that he mainly directed at his younger brother the rest of the session .

Don smiled as he went through that first one again, remembering the sound of Splinter's voice as well as the praise as he had successfully performed the first four of the twenty suburi: _**Choku Tsuki, Shigoku Tsuki, Kaeshi Tsuki, Ushiro Tsuki.**_

"Excellent work, my son! You have a natural ability for the weapon, I believe! Well done!"

Don, puffed up with pride, continued on his way, once in a while launching into some of the other _suburi_ as he fought his way through imaginary enemies who tried to prevent him from his quest: to bring back the remedy that would heal his family!

It was like a MOVIE! Yeah, like one of those really cool Japanese movies, or like one of the Japanese fairy tales that Mikey loved so much!

"Donatello and the Cursed Brothers," he laughed, making his own story up, all the while thrusting, leaping, spinning, and fighting his way through evil samurai, treacherous ninja, a few ogres, and a monster who barred his way to the junk yard...

Donatello snapped out of his daydream as he realized that he'd reached the abandoned tunnel.

Straight ahead was the well-known, better lit passage that he and Splinter always used on their way to the junk yard. To his right was a partially boarded up opening that was black with the unknown.

And yet, Don was convinced that it might be a short cut. He was sure he'd found the other end of it at the junk yard. In fact, he had just been prepared to explore that end when the dog had shown up, trying to turn him into his personal chew toy.

Don swallowed. Hard. Until now this had been a grand Adventure.

Now...

Drawing a deep breath, he took his flash light out of his bag and flicked it on. The bright, steady beam was calming on his already racing imagination, and he directed its brilliance into the tunnel, cutting a straight path through the inky blackness.

It looked like every other sewer tunnel; only more scary.

NO! Don shook his head fiercely. Not "more scary"! Not even "scary"! It was just a tunnel, like every other tunnel-- only boarded up a bit... and cluttered with abandoned things... and dark... and dusty... and cobwebby... and...

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Why hasn't any of the rain water washed that stuff away?

Granted, the opening was about three feet above the floor level of this one, which puzzled the young turtle to no end. Oh, he could get into it; but should he?

__

It must be boarded up for a reason, Brainac he could almost imagine Raph's voice telling him this.

He was about to continue on the regular way when he heard Raph's voice again.

__

"He wouldn't know Adventure if..."

Using the Jo, he levered off some of the haphazardly fastened boards, making a large enough opening for himself. Then, after much struggling and jumping, he got himself into the opening and started carefully on his way into the Unknown...

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Dark. Dark and dripping, damp yet dusty. Contradictions bothered Don. How could it be damp yet dusty? And where was all that dripping coming from?

He bravely walked on, wondering at the amount of old tools, boxes, litter. Now and then he would splash into a small, cold puddle of water, but at first he paid it no mind; after all, he and his brothers were usually ankle deep in the stuff in the storm drains and sewers. Instead his focus was on the items littering the tunnel floor.

Some of this stuff looked ancient! Even the walls seemed older than the ones he was used to; was this part of the old system? But that didn't make sense.

This was more like an access way than a sewer tunnel-- a sort of short cut between one main junction and another. But why board it up? Why not keep using it?

Dust. Dirt. Old boards. Warped wooden boxes, empty and useless. Rusted stray tools, so bad off that even Don could tell they were not worth scavenging. Cobwebs galore!

Yet no spiders, thank goodness. These remnants were old, full of dust and nothing else.

Here and there were crumbled piles of stonework. Looking up, Don could see that some sort of water damage had brought down bits of the ceiling here and there. Probably a leak in a pipe or something... yeah, leaking pipes; that would explain the dripping and the occasional puddles.

He stumbled over another pile of rubble, staggering for a moment before he caught himself. He breathed a sigh of relief and pressed forward.

__

Hey! Hey stupid! Turn around and go home! This is nuts! This is crazy! This is something Raph would do, and you know how his adventures turn out!

Don shook off his inner-Don.

"I'm not Raphael. I'm smarter than that."

__

Sure! So smart that you've broken how many of Splinter's rules? Let's see... Don't touch the weapons without Sensei's permission; Don't take a weapon out of the dojo; Don't leave the Lair...

"Don't listen to your own self-doubts!" he snapped out fiercely. "Don't give up! Don't accept defeat!"

__

Don't get too wrapped up in your own goals that you neglect your own safety.

Don gritted his teeth against that last one. He made a few one-handed moves with the Jo more for comfort than for practice, and continued doggedly on his way. This **had** to lead to the junk yard. It just **had** to!

"Doesn't matter that it seems like it's taking a long time," he sniffed to himself. "That's just 'cause I'm moving carefully. Yeah... Just around that bend I should start to see the exit... just around that bend..."

Just around the bend was a large chunk of the roof, pretty much blocking his forward progress.

"Damn!" he exclaimed-- then froze in shock! HE had SWORN! HE had used one of the words that had earned Raphael a really painful spanking (though the older turtle still muttered it when he was sure that Splinter would not find out about it).

Clapping a hand over his mouth, he stood there for a moment, knowing that he had to turn back and yet not wanting to admit defeat.

Carefully he examined the obstruction. His flash light played over the entire pile, pretty much showing him that there was no way past it-- and then, there it was-- a space that looked just the right size!

__

Yes! Yes yes yes yes yes!

Without thinking he shoved his bag trough the opening, tossed the Jo through after it, and then, gripping the flash light in his mouth, he wiggled his way to the other side!

In the distance he thought he could see a vague outline of an exit!

VICTORY!

Retrieving bag and Jo, he began his triumphant march to the end of his quest!

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"Don--a--tello! He's the hero of the day!

Don--a--tello! He will always find the way!"

Don laughed aloud in surprise at himself. Mikey was always making up songs about stuff; he had made up several really good ones about all of them (though Raph had sworn an oath of honor that if Mikey EVER sang _"Daffy Raphy, with the tail of steel/ a spanking is the only thing it can feel"_ one more time, he would personally beat the living daylights out of him no matter how many centuries Splinter grounded him for!), and he had made that one up about Don after the brainy turtle had first presented them with the magic of the remote control for the television. At the time it had embarrassed Don to no end.

Now, however!

Don began to sing the song even louder, laughing joyfully.

__

"Noth--ing can stoooop him!

Noth--ing at aaaaallllllll!

Don--a--tello! He's the one we call!"

As his foot came down to touch the floor, he splashed into a shallow puddle-- and pitched forward as his leg rapidly sank into a sudden hole that opened under him!

Down he came, down hard on both hands, crying out in surprise and fear, barely registering the scraping of the rough stones as his left leg sank abruptly below floor level up to the knee-- his knee pad wedged against the small opening, and protected his skin from the most jagged part of the floor. Yet there was no mistaking that stabbing pain-- something had pierced through!

He was sprawled now on his plastron, lying there stunned and afraid to move, trying to figure out what the heck had happened, choking on dust and dirt and a growing panic.

He swallowed down the bile he could feel rising in his throat, and shakily pushed himself up into an awkward sitting position. His bag was still close by. The flashlight, too, was close, and undamaged.

But his Jo was just out of reach.

He studied his situation, trying to detach his emotions, trying to be grown-up, trying to see exactly what had happened to him.

The floor must have been weakened by the leak from above. He wondered if the entire floor was safe; so far, only this section had given away.

It was a small hole that accommodated his leg. The kneepad was firmly wedged, and in the glow of the light he could see a small amount of blood-- no surprise, he was sure that he'd scrapped himself pretty good.

What had mostly surprised him was the pain in his ankle-- and the realization that he'd become somehow trapped between two pipes!

As he sat there, the growing realization that he was in a world of trouble, his inner-Don just couldn't let it go.

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Yep-- Adventure sure is sweet, isn't it Donnie?

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With a start he awoke-- again he had dozed off, probably had cried himself to sleep, he wasn't sure-- unless there wasn't much oxygen in the tunnel, and he was blacking out?

No, he was sure that there was plenty of oxygen. He didn't feel dizzy, and he could feel a sort of breeze from somewhere. He didn't smell anything dangerous, just dirt and dust and the usual sewer smells...

Carbon dioxide has no smell he reminded himself.

"My head doesn't hurt, and I don't feel sleepy!" he said loudly, in an attempt to drive away his nagging doubts and worries. "I can breathe! Everything is fine! I'm just stuck!"

And in his frustration and fear and anger he jerked mightily on his left leg, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain in his ankle and knee. He felt some of the floor around his leg crumble a tiny bit, and he froze. What if the entire floor gave away? He'd be in real trouble then, probably hanging by a broken ankle!

When he had stepped on the spot, he had retained his grip on the flash light, but the Jo had rolled just out of his reach.

"Think, Donnie! Think!" he told himself in frustration. There had to be a way out of this, there just HAD to be!

The Jo! He needed to get hold of the Jo. With that he might be able to pry the pipes just enough to get his foot unstuck!

But it was just out of reach; even trying to use the flash light was no good.

He sighed again, and stared at everything around him. The only thing close to hand was his canvas bag...

It was a neat bag. The handle had come loose at one end, but Don had managed to stitch it back on himself. Then he looked at the Jo lying so close and yet so far...

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"Remember, my son, every problem has a solution."

Donatello stared at the puzzle, wondering what the solution to this was.

"Couldn't you just give me a hint?" he asked Splinter, staring at the strange cube that had many many colors on it. The goal, as he understood it, was to twist and turn it until each side of the cube had one solid color. But for the life of him he could only get to three solid sides.

"I could, my little Akio," he replied, patting his head. "But solving it on your own is the best way to learn..."

With a lot of pulling, and biting, and tugging, and attempts to damage the threads with a jagged piece of rock, Don managed to get through the stitches that he'd so lovingly put into the handle, and he was left with his bag, attached at one end by the canvas strap, the other end of the strap grasped in his right hand.

"Now, let us solve this puzzle," he said, and tossed the empty bag at the Jo-- knocking it a bit further away.

He wanted to curse, but he kept his cool-- he had to, this floor was not stable. He could feel a bit more of the hole around his leg open up. Were it not for the fact that his ankle was trapped, he could pull free.

The bag landed on top of the Jo! Carefully, carefully, he dragged on the strap, and was rewarded by the sound of the wood scraping on the floor-- and then the bag came free, leaving the weapon behind.

Again and again he tossed the bag, once knocking the staff back almost the entire length he had managed to drag it.

That was when he nearly gave up.

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"Every problem has a solution, my Akio! Keep trying! Never give up!"

Toss-- pull-- scrape-- stop-- toss-- pull-- scrape-- stop--

His leg sank below the kneepad, and the edge of his shell came suddenly in contact with the floor, pinching his tail painfully!

Desperately he stretched out on his plastron, arm outstretched, fingers questing-- he put down the flash and kept tossing the bag with one hand, while struggling with the other-- his right leg screamed in protest at the strange angle it was forced to assume as leverage, while the left was shouting its own complaints of pain, pain, stabbing pain!

Once more a bit of flooring crumbled against his thigh-- just as his fingers touched the Jo!

Carefully, slowly, he teased the weapon closer and closer until he could grasp it firmly!

He didn't even spare himself a relieved sigh. He sat up and, with his free hand, worked at the space around his leg, then aimed the flashlight once again into the hole-- he could see his foot now, just a bit-- the two pipes were definitely rusted. Perhaps he could break one just enough to get loose. It would be easy! He was sure that there was no hot water in it-- he was sure no water was in it at all, as rusted as it looked.

It should be safe! He worked the Jo into the hole next to his leg. It was a bit of a tight squeeze, and it was hard to maneuver it especially with one hand, but he managed to come into contact with the water pipe. He prepared to start striking it, to see if he could break i.

"Unless it's a gas pipe," he suddenly said out loud, and his face almost crumbled. "If it's a gas pipe, I should be able to get out and get down the tunnel before any fumes could reach me."

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Papa!

You can solve any problem if you put your mind to it...

He put the flash light and the damaged bag a little in front of him, where he could quickly grab both and make his escape down the tunnel. Grasping the Jo in both hands, he took a deep breath, let it out, breathed in again, and made ready.

With all of his concentration and strength, he made a powerful downward strike!

CLANG!

The sound was encouraging even as the Jo slid off to the right, but he held on tightly and did not lose it down the hole. No sounds other than the sound of wood on pipe greeted his straining ears.

CLANG!

Something stabbed him a bit; the foot seemed a bit looser, he could move his ankle more!

Downward strike! CLA-RACK!

Something gave way-- something cracked and the pressure on his ankle was suddenly gone, though something was scraping against his already damaged skin.

Quickly he pulled the Jo from the hole, then scrambling with all his might he dragged himself out of the hole and collapsed, hard on his plastron, gasping in dirt and dust and cobwebs--

-- and then he heard it-- the crack of stone.

The floor where he had been trapped was slowly collapsing! Bits of the ceiling was beginning to shake down over him as if in sympathy with the ever crumbling floor!

"Damn!" he coughed, and without thinking beyond the word "run" he grabbed the Jo and the flashlight and started to run-- only to collapse on his injured leg. But he wasted no time in tears or cries of pain or more cursing. Up again, using the Jo as a support, he half hopped, half limped as quickly as any turtle could further and further away from that ever-growing trap, keeping his eyes on what appeared to his grateful, tearing eyes to be the exit from this "short cut".

"Just a few more yards! Just a few more yards!" he gasped dizzily, spitting dirt and blood from his mouth-- he had bitten his tongue when he had fallen, but had paid little heed to the coppery taste that was coating his mouth, he had to get out! No telling how much of the floor was being pulled into the possible sinkhole! He had to get out!

"Just a few more yards!" he made a final lunge, and tumbled out of the wide exit-- and landed splash in a runoff channel.

He was out of the tunnel-- and still in the sewers.

The short cut had not lead to the junk yard.

But for the life of him, he had no idea where it had led to.

He was safe, but he was lost.

He lay there, the runoff water sluicing around his body, his breathing slowing, his heart beat coming more and more under control.

"Well-- Adventure can't say it hasn't had a mouthful of my ass today," he sighed, eyes closed, shivering in the cold water.


	5. Chapter 5

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Thanks to Splinter for the daunting task of beta work on this chapter. Thanks in advance to Machias Banshee for beta work on what will probably be the last chapter, btw!

TMNT belong to Mirage. "Bunny Brothers" belongs to me!

MEANWHILE...

Splinter had no idea how much of a head start Donatello had, or how long he had been missing. His brothers had said that he had not left the room the entire time Splinter was gone-- and that had been many hours, more hours than Splinter cared to think about. He wished that he had been able to spare a few minutes to try to figure out why Donatello would do such a thing.

He knew that the remotes were broken. He knew how Donatello insisted that there should be four.

But what he could not understand was **why** Donatello had deemed it so important to replace the two broken ones at once-- on his own-- by sneaking out of the Lair, stopping on the way long enough to take a weapon and his dojo gear with him, instead of waiting for Splinter's return.

Why?

Something had to be behind this! Some sort of argument or misunderstanding or--

As he went, he tried to recall anything the others had said, but all he could think of was Michelangelo's words: _"MR. Donatello must still be in his secret laboratory. He hasn't come out the entire time you was gone."_

The tone of voice was surprising for Michelangelo, who never held any anger for his brothers for very long. SOMETHING had upset the youngest for him to refer to his "bestest brother" as "MR. Donatello"...

The trip to the junk yard was a long one, usually taking at least forty minutes to get there. If Donatello was confident that he could get there and return without Splinter knowing, then he must have left some time ago-- in which case, he should run into him coming back.

Unless the dog got him!

The worried father, tired as he was, increased his pace, trying to keep that and other such equally horrible thoughts from his parental imagination.

He was confident that this was the direction his son took; he could faintly scent him. Donatello **had** passed this way some time ago. Splinter could not be sure, but the "trail" was at least several hours old according to his sensitive nose.

__

When I see him, I will hug him and then he is in for the spanking of his life, Splinter nodded grimly. _Raphael's punishment will be nothing to the punishment of Donatello. HOW could he do this? He never has done such a thing on his own!_

What happened while I was gone?

Faintly, so faintly, a ghostly echo of a quick, hollow noise wafted up the tunnel, caught by Splinter's ears. They twitched forward before he could think. Stopping, he turned them this way and that, waiting to hear more. Donatello returning? Perhaps tapping his Jo on the floor or something?

Before he could start up again, the same sound, quick and hollow and oh so faint. Splinter began his forward movement again, when the sound came a third time-- only it was somehow different-- cut off as it were.

__

If he is damaging that Jo by trying to hit rats...

He had traveled a few more yards when a new sound came echoing up the sewer, a terrifying sound that he knew too well-- a cracking, crumbling sound, as if something were falling to pieces--

"Collapse!" he shouted without thinking.

He had seen such things in action! There were parts of the old systems that were eaten away by constant water damage as well as shoddy workmanship and old age. He had spent a lot of time, as the turtles grew and were allowed to venture out more and more, in locating and doing his best to barricade branches of the system that he knew were unsafe. He had warned them time and time again to never enter any tunnel or large pipe that he had NOT shown them himself!

But THIS tunnel should be sound! There should NOT be a collapse in this tunnel!

His feet splashed quickly through the runoff-- the way was quicker than staying to the side, and he needed to find out where that sound had come from.

As fast as he was, it was still about fifteen minutes before he reached the tunnel that Donatello had taken. So involved was he with his determination to find Donatello, to locate that noise, that he passed the opening without stopping-- and then froze, as his brain registered what his nose told him!

With a growing fear he noted that some of the boards had been pried away! Remnants of dust and debris were suspended in the air, catching his flashlight beam and reflecting it back at him in a dazzling manner.

And the scent of Donatello was strong at the entrance.

"Donatello!" he shouted into the tunnel, straining his ears, but all he heard was his own voice echoing and the settling of stone and debris.

Without another word he was into the tunnel, traveling as quickly as the litter of the past allowed him.

Around the bend in the tunnel, and a LARGE collapse barred his way!

"My son!" he shouted, going at once to pile of rock and dirt and piping that had buried his son!

But as he touched it, he realized that this was a very old collapse, and he drew a shaky breath of relief. But then, where did Donatello go? His scent was strong here, very strong. Splinter was sure he had not doubled back and gone on his way.

He played his flashlight over the barrier that prevented him from going further, puzzling all the while...

The hole in the side was just the right size for a young determined turtle to slip through.

Splinter was able to get his head and one arm through, holding the flashlight, but to try to go further threatened to bring more debris down upon himself. Frantically he waved the light around, and for a moment his mind refused to accept what the eyes were seeing: the entire floor, from just beyond this pile of rubble to about thirty feet beyond, was gone! Another pile of rubble, debris from the ceiling (he had aimed his light upwards and found more cracks in the wall and a chunk of the ceiling missing) was barely visible somewhere roughly in the center of this vast sinkhole. The floor was still dropping a piece here and there, and Splinter could hear it hit on pipes below the surface occasionally.

__

"AKIO!" He shouted into the gloom, needing to get in there but finding it impossible. "_AKIO! Waga osanago!"_

Nothing but the sound of rocks and dirt settling and the echo of his own panic.

"Donatello," he barely whispered, fighting down the overpowering despair that threatened to rob him of control.

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Donatello, lying in the channel, didn't hear anything but the beating of his own heart and the rushing of the icy water. After a few minutes, he arose and, dripping wet, climbed out of the current, and took inventory.

His left kneepad was missing-- he guessed in the final struggle it had fallen off or been cut off. His left leg was skinned up something fierce, but at the moment he couldn't feel it because of the icy water. But he knew that after a bit the pain would be back.

His knee looked sprained, it was swollen. His ankle was the worst-- an ugly gash (still bleeding but not badly; another blessing) was present, but the ankle looked three times its normal size. Possibly broken, or just badly sprained. Either way, walking was going to be a problem.

His canvas bag was gone, but he'd held onto the flash light, and had managed to grab the Jo.

There was light in this section-- the usual weak electric bulbs placed every so many yards to illuminate the way for the workers-- and he hopped one footed over to the nearest, switching off the flash light to conserve the batteries.

Taking his mask from his face, he did his best to wrap the ankle as he'd been shown by Splinter during first aid lessons. It was hard, as it was still wet (like the rest of him), but he managed to make a crude yet sturdy wrap that would last until he got home.

After a moment's hesitation, he removed his other kneepad and fastened it snugly around his swollen left knee, hoping that it would do for a makeshift bandage.

By now the numbness of the cold water and his emotions had worn off, and his leg felt on fire! All the scraped areas burned as if they could imagine what it would feel like when Sensei put the medicines on them...

Sensei! Oh, MAN, he was gonna get the spanking of his life!

__

"Wow! And I thought Splinter hit ME hard just for goin' in his room!" he imagined Raph saying. _ "I'm surprised Donnie can sit at all!"_

"Well, he shouldn't have left the Lair," his mean old imagination made sure he heard sanctimonious Leo's possible pronouncement. "_**And** he took a weapon-- that alone deserves a spanking. I always thought he was so smart..."_

"I am smart," he sighed in "reply" to his absent brothers. "But that doesn't mean I'm not foolish. Stupid controllers!"

He had no way of judging just how long he'd been stuck there. He was pretty sure that he had left the Lair not long after Splinter... at least two hours, and he knew that he was going to have plenty of time to get to the junk yard and back again, so much time that Splinter would never know--

Don found himself sniffling-- Splinter surely knew by now!

Splinter knew, for sure! And he still didn't have the controllers. And his brothers still hated him. AND he was lost, to boot! Looking around, he realized that this was not a familiar tunnel. Splinter only took them specific ways, and they had learned to recognize their locations.

This looked like every other sewer tunnel, except that Don could tell it was one he'd never been in before. Yet he knew that it would eventually connect with something leading home.

The big decision-- which way?

Glancing around for some sort of visual clue, he saw the opening he had come out of on the far wall across the channel and to his left; he had moved to the right of the exit. The water was flowing away in that direction.

__

Think, Donnie, think!

Taking a deep breath, he decided to continue on in the direction he had come, continuing away from that tunnel and against the flow of the current.

He reasoned that this tunnel should intersect with his original one. In that one, he knew that he'd been heading towards the junk yard, and the water had been flowing with his direction. All water eventually flowed into larger junctions and then to wherever the conduits led to-- treatment plants, the river or ocean.

The "short cut" he had entered had pretty much led away from his original path at about a 90˚ angle-- until it had curved to the left, making it almost parallel with his starting point. In his mind he could see it like a rough drawing. This tunnel was at a 90˚ angle from the one he had left. Therefore, it must intersect with his original tunnel!

"Unless it just comes out at a major junction," he sighed, suddenly nervous. "And then what? If I don't recognize the place, or I can't find some sort of information telling me where it is, I'm still lost!"

__

Well, you wanted an--

"Shut up!" he yelled at his inner-Don; he was NOT in the mood for sarcasm, even from himself!

Determinedly, gripping the Jo like a walking stick, he carefully started on his journey, crossing the channel to be on the "door side" as it were, hoping against hope that he was headed in the right direction.

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Splinter calmed himself. The scent of his son was strong, but he did NOT smell death!

There was a chance that Donatello had left the tunnel before the collapse.

Splinter sat back on his heels, thinking hard. Getting across the large sink hole might not be a problem; after all, he had brought a rope with a grappling hook.

But after studying the structure before him for several good minutes, he realized that it would take more than his own hands to make the passage big enough to admit himself-- and even then he ran the risk of further collapse. He had no choice. He had to go back.

His mind raced with his knowledge of the sewers. He racked his brain, trying to recall what he knew of this particular juncture. Nothing came to mind, however, and he felt himself growing frustrated.

Calming down, he realized that the only thing he could logically do was to continue on his way until he reached the next intersection, then go to the right. With some luck he could work his way around to where he thought that unfortunate tunnel ended.

"Now, if only my son keeps his head about him and choses the right direction," he muttered to himself, forcing himself to believe that Donatello had indeed made it safely out of that trap and was even now trying to decide on the right direction to travel.

__

"Always know which way the water flows away from our home," he told the four of them on their first group trip into the sewers. They were grouped in front of their Lair, patiently waiting for this grand adventure. "As you can see, on this side where we stand facing it, the water flows from left to right. Remember to stand on the side where it flows thusly; it will help you to remember your location and your way back."

"But what if we're in another sewer?" Donatello asked. "How do we know then? All the tunnels don't go by our home."

"That is true, but you will eventually learn that all roads lead to Rome."

"I know, but say if we're in a tunnel that is several right and left turns from here, and there is a runoff junction with lots of different tunnels, and---"

"Let us only concern ourselves with today's lesson, Donatello," Splinter cut him off. "I will teach you more of the system later. Remember for now-- stay on the "door" side of the sewers. If you travel away from home in the direction of the flow, know that you will return going in the direction that travels against it. And if you travel away from home against the flow, then the flowing direction will bring you home."

"Hai, Sensei," they all said, itching to go!

Splinter should have allowed Donatello to help him make the maps. He had wanted to learn, but Splinter had kept putting him off, never seeming to find the extra time to teach his son this particular skill.

"Your first new lesson will be in Cartography," Splinter promised aloud as he quickly continued on his way, believing with a father's heart that he would soon be holding his lost child.

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"...and I hope Splinter spanks him a good one, and grounds him for two months, and makes him do all our chores, and give up his super secret him only laboratory!" Mikey was still ranting, even as he gathered up the plates that had held their "supper" of sandwiches. "That'll teach him to want to be a grownup and not play with me-- I mean, us!"

Leo and Raph had pretty much tuned out Mikey by now. When he got into this type of mood, the best thing was to ignore him as much as possible, and then after he'd ranted a bit, distract him.

The two older brothers were now getting ready to try the distraction part. They'd worry about Don with each other and so Mikey couldn't hear, but first they had to get Mikey the indignant to shut the heck up!

"Hey, Mikey, Splinter said you can watch TV," Raph reminded him, handing him the remote. "And tonight is one of your favorite shows!"

"OOOO! '_Bunny Brothers_'? Yea! I'd forgotten!" Mikey's mood switched faster than anything known to turtles, and in no time at all the set was on and Mikey was plopped in front of it on the floor, nearly blocking the view of the older brothers.

"Mission accomplished," Raph smirked behind his hand to Leo, as they settled in on the couch to watch "_the wacky adventures of the mischievous Bunny Brothers, quadruplets that seemed to find trouble even when trying to be good_".

Leo and Raph really did not pay attention; it was not their favorite show, but to keep Mikey from going on about Don they would put up with a half-hour of silliness.

They were fifteen minutes into the show when Leo and Raph noticed that something was not right.

Mikey was not laughing. Usually the Lair rang with the raucous noise that was known as "Mikey's Laugh". The show was not that funny, but Mikey always filled their home with his genuine mirth at the antics of the four Bunny Brothers.

But this time there wasn't so much as one chuckle. Not even one smile.

Far from it, he had suddenly shut off the TV and threw the remote control into Splinter's chair.

"Stupid dumbhead Donatello!" he shouted, sitting there, breathing hard, fists clenched.

"Mikey, what--" Raph barely said, but their youngest brother didn't give him time to finish.

"Didn't you see the show?" Mikey asked incredulously, waving at the now shut off TV. "That stupid Bunny Brother that is Don--"

"Don?" Raph asked. "What're you talkin' about?"

"Remember, we said that each Bunny Brother was one of us?"

"No, YOU said that each Bunny Brother was one of us," Leo reminded him, but Mikey was not listening.

"The Donnie one-- he moved away! He moved away from his family, saying he was too 'grown up' to be a bunny anymore, he was a grown rabbit! JUST 'cause he learned how to cross the road by himself and his brothers still needed their Mama to go with them!" Mikey was close to angry tears.

"Mikey, what's that got to do with Don?" Leo asked, trying and failing to understand this emotional outburst.

"Jeeze, Leo!" Mikey couldn't believe how dumb his brother was being. "You're the one who said Donnie was a grown-up in his mind! He must think so, too! He got dressed in his gear! He took a WEAPON with him! Without asking! Like a grownup!"

"Mikey, I keep tellin' ya, Donnie ain't a grown up, Leo was wrong," Raph was becoming exasperated with his youngest brother's insistance on holding onto that image that Leo had put forth.

But Mikey was not to be placated. All he knew was his former bestest brother in the whole world had not just quit playing with him-- he had LEFT him! He had left them all!

"I hate Donnie! How DARE he abandon us?" Mikey began to cry. "Stupid show! Stupid Bunny Brother! STUPID DONATELLO! I hope he NEVER comes back!"

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Somewhere in the sewers, Don was finding it harder and harder to walk. He found himself resting more and more. He was so tired, and so thirsty, and he had to go to the bathroom so bad that he finally did what he hadn't done since he was a turtle tot-- he relieved himself in the stream.

And he felt that he couldn't go on, he couldn't go on, he couldn't go on--

And then he was in a new tunnel-- and the tunnel was yet another one he did not recognize!

He sank down and started to cry.

And then, he realized that, though it was NOT the original tunnel he had been traveling in, there was a ladder to the surface-- and a sign by it that helped the sewer workers know exactly where they were-- and from reading it, Don knew that if he went to the right instead of the left, he would in no time be in the junk yard!

He could **still** get the remote controls! He could **still** pull off the surprise of a lifetime! **And **he could find the RIGHT entrance that would lead straight back home! It would be better than trying to travel an unknown direction...

He could get the controllers...

He could still do it...

All he had to do was go to the right.


	6. Chapter 6

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Well, I don't know what the deal is with the alerts lately, but thanks everyone who reviewed-- I didn't get any in my email and thought that you had all had enough and had given up on my ficcie.

TMNT are owned by Mirage. The doggie is mine.

Don was a seven-year old. Don was a seven-year-old genius. Don was a seven-year-old genius who was injured, lost, and in a lot of trouble.

It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

He knew that since he was lost, he should try to go back home by traveling against the flow of the water. He knew that it was getting later and later, and he was already off course.

He knew all of this.

And yet he STILL decided that he would risk the junk yard.

"After all," he reasoned, as he sat there in the sewers, deciding between left and right, "Splinter is probably out looking for me now. If he figured out that I was going to the junk yard, then I know which way he would be going-- but he doesn't know that I took a short cut. So, if I go to the junk yard, I can get into the right tunnel-- maybe he's there right now!"

Don smiled, proud that he had reasoned out a good excuse to go to the junk yard instead of trying to head home in the opposite direction. With a bit of effort, he got back up. His knee was stiff and painful, but it held his weight. His ankle was not happy, but he found if he stood on the toes of that foot quickly, then it wasn't so bad, especially when leaning on the Jo stick like a crutch.

It was several minutes of painful, slow, yet steady progress when he remembered the dog.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The dog! The large, fierce, powerful, gray and white shaggy-furred, bared teeth snarling and snapping and vicious dog!

__

"That cute little puppy?" Mikey asked, amazed that his brainy brother had nearly been eaten all up. "But he's a nice doggie! I petted him the last time I got to go to the junk yard!"

"That WAS a puppy, you dummy!" Raph snorted. "The last time you went to the junk yard was last year. That 'cute little puppy' is a killin' machine on four feet! I wish I'da been there! I'da given that 'cute little puppy' a taste of 'Raph-foot'!" And he performed a few of his bestest newest most powerfulest kicks that he had just mastered in the dojo, as if attacking a whole pack of rabid wolves who were threatening to eat up his entire family including Splinter. " 'Well done, my son! You have saved us all from the evil animals!'" he mimicked his father, and bowed in victory over the many corpses.

"You woulda been crying for Splinter," Leo laughed in turn at Raph, who tried out one of his kicks on his brother-- but Leo, too, had been successful in the dojo lately, and not only easily deflected "Raph-foot", he set him on his shell as a follow through. "That dog is a guard dog, and his job is to protect the junk. He would have eaten your 'Raph-foot', along with your 'Raph-hand', 'Raph-shell', and 'Raph-butt'!"

"He would not! I'd of killed him on account of I know ninjitsu, and I could use the junk in the junk yard for a weapon!"

"That's stupid! You couldn't use junk as a weapon!"

"Splinter says in the hands of a ninja ANYTHING is a weapon!" Raph challenged triumphantly, and Leo, desperate to argue with Raph and prove to him that he was wrong as well as stupid, bit his tongue-- Splinter had said that, and to Leo, whatever Splinter said was carved in stone and to be recited even in sleep.

So he settled for sticking his tongue out at Raph, who laughed at having bested Leo in the war of words.

"Anyway, I have a weapon now," Don said aloud, tightening his grip on the Jo. "And I just have to get to the right tunnel! I'm just going there to get home! I'm not even going to look for anything for the game system. Honest. I'm not. Not even one controller so Mikey will like me again... not even one..."

Determined, he started out again. His speed was even a bit faster, though he took care not to injure his ankle any further. Soon, he would be in the right tunnel, and Splinter would find him, and would pick him up and hug him and kiss him and call him "My son" and "Akio" and carry him home and bathe him and fix all of his owies and spank him and ground him and...

Briefly he stopped again, and gulped. Yes, there was a spanking in his future.

__

"Man, Donnie, you sure asked for it!" he imagined Raph guffawing as Splinter administered the smacks in front of the others. "And you didn't even bring back one controller to make it all worthwhile. I KNEW you didn't know Adventure..."

Don went on, more determined than ever to get that controller-- NO! TWO controllers! If he was going to get the spanking of his life and grounded for ten years, he would at least get the controllers! Dog or no dog!

__

"Wow! Donnie, I never knowed that you was so brave!" he could hear Mikey saying as he stood in the corner (cause the spanking would have made it hard to sit) of the dojo. "And you did it all for me? You are the bestest, BESTEST brother in the whole wide world, and I'm sorry I got mad at you and I'm not gonna play that new game system until I can play with YOU!"

"Here I come, Adventure! You aren't rid of me yet!"

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In what seemed like no time, Don was at the end of the tunnel. Cold night air surrounded him, wrapping him in an icy blanket of shivers. The sky was clear of clouds and the moon was waning as it approached the new phase; stars, unhindered by Nature and Man, littered the dark above as plentifully as the tantalizing mountains of junk that covered the ground.

Don looked around. The place looked very deserted. He had no way of telling the time, but he knew the routine. The lone guard would be safely in his little room, watching TV and eating something tasty.

The dog, hopefully, was with him, begging a few treats even as he prepared for his evening of guarding all this valuable junk from curious turtle boys.

Stealthily (within reason, considering his injuries) he slid into the shadow of the closest pile of treasure, eyes and ears on the alert for any four-footed shaggy sharp-toothed guardians.

From pile to amazingly tempting pile he made his way to the main mound. From there he knew that the entrance he needed was just a few yards away.

Success! He made it without encountering the dog-- and there was the entrance! YES! Home was that way...

... and the pile where he had the most luck finding stuff for the game system was just a few more piles to the left...

__

Go home, Donnie! Go home! You've been lucky so far! What are you trying to prove?

Don hesitated. Home. He had to get home.

__

You and Mikey could share one remote, and Leo and Raph could share the other! Go home!

Leo and Raph-- SHARE?

He knew he was going to do it before he even actually thought of it. To the left he went. A quick look, an even quicker find, and he would be gone! Nothing would distract him in this single-minded mission, nothing would take his attention away from-- HEY! That bike looks brand new!

__

Focus, Donnie! Game controllers! Remember why you're here!

Don-a-tello! He will find a way...

Don-a-tello! He makes sure we can play!

The "sound" of Mikey's voice filled his head as he located the gold mine of his past forages. Nothing stood between him and his quest-- sprained knee, possibly broken ankle, most of the skin scraped off of his leg, and freezing cold to boot-- he had succeeded!

And there! There in the carefully concealed glow of his flashlight was exactly what he needed! Just there, just buried a tad under that larger stuff, was a wealth of various controllers, waving to him from the pile of even more tantalizing items!

His hand went out; his fingers lovingly and carefully brushed one of the prizes.

"GggrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..."

Silence, except for the rapid beating of a turtle heart, loud and fast and sounding the alarm. Sweat stood out all over his body, the cold sweat of FEAR. Frozen, unable to move, to think, to even swallow, his ears strained to hear what his brain did NOT wish to listen to.

"GgggrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRR..."

__

Move slowly... no sudden motions... don't run, he'll just chase you... move slowly...

Don withdrew his hand and gripped the Jo, and at the same time he turned in the direction of the sound. All of his actions took on the quality of a really slow-motion film scene, like in all those martial arts movies they watched all the time where when something climatic is about to take place in the final battle, and everything is slowed down to an impossible crawl just before the hero lands the final blow to defeat the evil opponent!

Don forced himself to look into the fiery eyes of this one-headed Cerberus.

"H-h-h-hi, doggie. Nice doggie!"

"GggrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..."

Slowly limping backwards, never taking his eyes off the dog's, Don moved as carefully as he could, Jo stick held in a defensive position, as if he were facing Raph in the dojo. Come to think of it, this dog's growling kind of reminded him of his brother...

Don moved backwards, hopefully in the right direction. The dog slowly followed, head lowered, eyes on this intruder, teeth showing and looking more deadly than ever. Don could see the fur along the dog's back standing up straight and bristling; he could almost smell the dog's breath, though Don kept a respectful distance between the two.

__

Slowly, Don, slowly, and do not break eye-contact...

"Nice puppy! Cute puppy!"

"GgggrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!"

Oh, boy---

Don's bad leg came in contact with something behind him on the ground; stepping on it caused him to retwist the ankle! Pain beyond pain shot from his toes to his tail, and he was off-balance just for a brief, frantic moment!

But it was enough of a brief, frantic moment to set off the dog.

With a final vicious growl that turned into lots of vicious barking, the dog leapt at the child--

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Splinter was unsure, which was not quite usual for him.

He had reached the first tunnel to branch off in the direction parallel to the "short cut" of Donatello and taken it immediately, moving with surety; but he had been this way many times before, and as he went along he began to go slower and slower, his doubt building. He never recalled seeing any boarded up sections branching off of it. It did move off to the left as one entered it, steadily left. But he was certain that nothing branched off of it until the end, where one either went left or right.

He stopped and closed his eyes, as much in frustration as in concentration. What had he seen when looking through that small opening? The gigantic hole where the floor used to be; and beyond? Try as he might, he could not recall if there was anything that would tell him if the tunnel went straight or bent again to the left or right. All he was sure of was that it was an access tunnel to help the workers get from one section to the other... short cuts...

"There are no such things as short cuts," he muttered ruefully.

He tried shouting again-- something he hated to do in case there were human workers around-- but the sound of his own voice echoed back up to him, and nothing else.

What should he do?

Or rather, what would Donatello do?

Assuming that his son had actually escaped that death trap, Splinter would like believe that his son was remembering the basics for getting home, and would be following the runoff channels against the flow. That is the logical thing his son would do--

But then, the logical thing for his son to have done would have been to wait until Father came home so they could go to the junk yard together to replace the damaged parts! The logical thing for Donatello to have done would have been to gather up the broken pieces, hide them from the prying eyes of his brothers, and await the return of Splinter. There was no hurry. Why had he acted so? Why leave the lair, dressed in his fighting gear and carrying a weapon?

He knew one thing-- he could not count on Donatello acting logically. He had acted like-- well, like a seven-year-old! His son who seemed to be more "grown up" than the others was showing that he was just as much a kid as they were.

"Think, Splinter," he murmured to himself. "Think like Donatello-- NO! Think like a seven-year-old!"

The father in him said that Donatello would go on with the original plan, and follow against the flow in an attempt to get home.

But the part that concentrated on the actions of all his sons told him that his son might try to continue his trip to the junk yard...

Long precious minutes were spent in this strange type of meditation. He could not afford to take risks-- it would be hard enough finding Donatello in all these endless tunnels.

Unless his son went to the junk yard anyway... there are several ways to get there, though Splinter had only shown them the one. Donatello could have found himself close enough to consider going there anyway, rather than trying to find his way home through unfamiliar tunnels. From the junk yard he could find their usual entrance, could already be on his way back home...

Splinter nearly swore in frustration! Any choice he made could be the wrong one! He was risking his son's recovery no matter what he decided!

"I will ground him for the rest of his life! He will still be grounded even after I die!"

From here, he was about fifteen minutes from his original route. Further ahead this tunnel ended in a left and right turn... the left turn was straight until it reached a bend that curved to the right, and emptied out into a drainage junction... and one of those pipes eventually lead to the dump.

"He could end up at the junction. He would probably wait there for a bit; he would not want to try to choose the direction from so many possible ways," he said to himself. "Unless he decided..."

That was it.

Splinter immediately turned around and headed back to the original tunnel. He would go to the junk yard, and then he would enter the one pipe he was certain that would lead to the junction. He would risk it. And he would search all night if he had to, but he was not going home without Donatello!

Five minutes away from the main tunnel a faint sound echoed up the system, to be detected by his sensitive ears-- barking!

Splinter ran, fear for his son giving added energy to the tired Rat, Splinter ran as fast as he could run!

Now he was in the main section, with another ten or so minutes between himself and his goal, running without stopping, straining to hear any sound of a crying child. Again some barking greeted his ears-- but nothing else!

Bursting out into the cold night air, he frantically searched with his eyes and ears and nose, trying to locate the dog-- and his son!

So many sounds of the city, so many smells of stagnant water and oil and various leftover fluids that dripped from the junked cars and the stink of the nearby river and cooking food from somewhere nearby-- honking horns, occasional music from a radio--

Barking! There, to the right!

Pile to pile the Rat moved, wanting to shout out to his son but not daring to. The barking sounded like the dog had not caught whomever it was after, more like it had trapped its prey...

Rounding the next pile, Splinter saw the dog standing in front of another entrance to below ground, barking but daring not to go in.

Splinter threw a rock at it, and the animal, turning to meet this new challenge with much snarling and barking, suddenly shut up, confused. NO one was behind it! There was a scent, a scent of that rat it had chased after before, but the creature was not there!

The dog carefully approached where the lingering smell was the strongest-- and found nothing!

Turning back to its original goal, it suddenly caught a whiff of the rat-- it had got past the dog and entered the tunnel!

Much indignant barking ensued, but the dog did not go after either one. After several more minutes of expressing its doggie frustration and making several doggie threats, it wandered back to the guard's shack, feeling that it deserved some sort of reward for a job well-done.

"Hey, fella," the old guard greeted the dog. "Been chasing the dump rats again? HEY! What happened? HOW did you get that lump on your head?"


	7. Chapter 7

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Thanks to everyone! TMNT are the property of Mirage. "Akio" is the nickname that Splinter and Machias Banshee use for Donnie in their many RP games-- loosely translated it means "bright boy", and they have allowed me to use it in the same manner here. The doggie is the property of me! Nice doggie! Cute doggie!

Don kept "running"-- he did a sort of limping, hopping run that was motivated by fear. He had lost his flashlight, but the weak lighting system of the sewers was enough to guide his flight.

But all too soon the pain in his leg reminded him with each step that he was injured and needed to stop.

"Dog-- coming-- gotta-- RUN!" he gasped in frustration, but his body kept slowing and slowing until he collapsed onto the side floor, just managing to keep from rolling into the runoff channel.

Immediately he got into a defensive position with the Jo, facing the way he had just come, ready for the dog.

After a few minutes he realized at least two things. First-- the dog had not followed. As his heart calmed down and his breathing eased up, he felt a sort of "glow" at the knowledge that there was no dog behind him waiting to take a bite out of his "already-nibbled at by Adventure" butt.

__

The dog had come at him in that moment when he staggered. Automatically his Jo came up in a striking position, and with a cry of "Gedan Gaeshi" he knocked the surprised dog back as it had leapt forward!

The dog once again went for him.

"Jodan Gaeshi!" He shouted again the name of the **suburi **like a battle cry, and once again the dog was knocked away. Then before he knew what he was doing, he was running straight into the tunnel, the stunned dog, recovered, hot on his heels.

Don did a purely Raph thing at that moment-- he kissed the Jo, and grinned in spite of everything.

Then realization number two hit him like a ton of bricks: this was the wrong tunnel.

"Aww, man... Aww, MAN!" he muttered, almost giving up.

The distant sound of barking once again reached his ears, and all thoughts of backtracking up to the right one were lost in a seven-year-old panic. Up he got and moved as fast as he could,_ straight on straight on don't stop keep going straight on!_

He thought he heard something in the distance, but he was in a blind panic. That dog was coming! He could hear it, he could feel that it was coming, wanting payback for his thumping it a good one on the head with his Jo, for defeating it on its own territory!

__

Run, Donnie, run, run, run!

Up ahead another tunnel opening, set about three feet above this one and dumping runoff into this one-- as well as two others, he realized when he got there. He must be close to a drainage junction. No point going left, right, or back, he struggled in the cold, nasty "waterfall" of sewage water and made it into the new tunnel, hobbling onwards.

He'd get to the drainage junction-- he'd get there, then rest, and try to figure out how to get home from there! He could do it! He could solve this problem!

After all, he'd been solving problems this entire trip.

There was not a dry place to walk here-- the water was knee-deep and cold cold cold! Soon he could barely feel the pain in his ankle-- or his toes, for that matter. Several times he stumbled and nearly ended up taking a bath in the sour, rank liquid.

Up ahead he could hear lots of sound; water pouring in, water swirling. He would need to be careful, he didn't want to fall into any larger pool and be swept away.

At the end he stood in the opening, glancing around. The junction was much better lighted, and for a moment the "brightness" blinded him. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he spied a narrow ledge that could get him to the upper floor and main walkway.

His numb feet slipped and slid along this narrow path, but the desperate turtle kept his focus on reaching his goal... closer... closer... he grabbed for a ladder just as his poor abused ankle once again gave way, and he hauled himself up, still holding onto the Jo!

YES! Whatever else happened, he hadn't lost the weapon! Surely that would count in his favor once Splinter found him and started the punishments...

Don sat down and stared around him. So many choices. So many ways.

HOW did he get into this mess?

"All I wanted was to do something for the guys," he tried not to sniffle, but he'd had enough. The "glow" of battle, the pride of having survived so much and solved so much dissolved into the tears of a cold, hurt, hungry, thirsty seven-year-old. "I want to go home! I want to go home now!"

And he gave himself up to his misery, sobbing loudly and creating many echoes of his grief and suffering. _How did all of this happen? I just wanted to do something nice! I just wanted to make things better! I just wanted--_

"_AKIO_!"

His head snapped up! He turned it desperately, this way and that, trying to locate the correct direction that it was coming from in this junction with the multitude of possible ways to go...

No... he imagined it. He had been wishing and crying so hard that he imagin--

"_AKIO_!"

"Father? FATHER!" He bellowed, still looking around for the source of his rescue. "FATHER! Where are you?"

"_Akio_! Stay where you are, my son! Do not move! **I** will find **you**!"

Don stayed seated and waited, trying not to cry anymore, trying not to worry, trying not to get up and follow the sound of that voice.

"Talk to me, my son! Talk to me!"

"Father! I'm sorry! I was wrong to leave home! I'm sorry! Raph was right! I DON'T know Adventure when it bites me on the ass!"

A startled gasp was his reply... followed by what sounded like stifled laughter... and then there was Splinter, appearing out of the same tunnel that Don had recently exited!

Don would have gone back to him if he could have. As it was, he had actually gotten to his feet and was desperately trying to get as close to the edge as possible, waiting by the ladder for his father to climb up to him!

Splinter moved as quickly as safety allowed, but in almost no time he was on the same level as Donatello and had scooped up the sobbing, injured child, hugging him so tightly that the little one, if not for his shell, would have been crushed.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," he kept sobbing, clutching Splinter tightly and refusing to let go so his father could examine his injuries.

"My son, my son," Splinter kept soothing as he sank to the floor with the child in his lap, trying and finally succeeding in getting Donatello to loosen his grip long enough for his father to examine his leg.

"I got stuck in a hole in the floor," he sniffled as Splinter manipulated his injured leg with the skill of a loving father. "I got my ankle stuck between some pipes and I couldn't get out..."

"How did you free yourself?"

"I-- I just figured it out-- like you taught me to," he murmured. "And then I tried to get home, but I was lost-- and then I thought if I could get to the junk yard-- and I almost got the right tunnel, but I was dumb and tried to get the controllers anyway, and then the dog came and I fought him with the Jo and escaped and-- and--"

Splinter wrapped his son up in his arms again, and struggled not to cry. His son should NOT have had to figure out how to free himself-- he should NOT have had to fight the dog, he was too young, he was just a baby, he was...

"_Akio_," he finally said, voice choked up with emotion, "Why did you do this? Why did you not wait for me to return?"

"I'm sorry!"

"It is all right, Donatello... it is all right, my son," he replied, wiping away the turtles fresh round of tears. "But you did not answer my question. Why did you do it?"

"Be-because the guys were mad, and-- and-- oh, papa, I'm so stupid!"

"You are not stupid," Splinter smiled in spite of everything. "You are my _Akio_! Come-- let us return home," and he picked up the child, adjusted him so that he could carry both him and the Jo stick, and then made his way home with his lost son.

And the entire trip, Donatello sniffled out the story of his foolishness; of hearing words that had hurt, of breaking precious items, of trying to make his brothers happy.

"... and then, Mikey swore an oath of honor that only Raph and Leo were his bestest brothers in the world and the onlyest favorite brothers he had-- he was going to swear a **keppan**, but once Leo reminded him that he'd have to cut himself, he changed his mind about that-- but now he hates me! And then I broke his controller, and mine, and you KNOW how Raph and Leo are, and I wanted Mikey to be able to play, but he wouldn't be able to, and everything was working perfectly and-- and-- I just wanted to make them happy! I just--"

"My son," Splinter finally interrupted as he took the long way home-- to go the short way would require his putting Donatello down a lot, and both were reluctant at the moment to give up their contact with each other. "My son, I think that you were trying to make yourself happy."

Donnie moved his head from Splinter's shoulder to look him in the eyes.

"Make myself happy? I don't--"

"I think that this obsession with the game system became something that was going to benefit Donatello, not his brothers. You imagined how they would react, right? They would be happy."

"Yeah, they would be ecstatic!"

"Yes, and they would praise you and thank you and call you many many nice things."

Don froze; he didn't want to admit that he'd imagined them treating him like a king. He didn't want to admit that he'd dreamed that they would treat him like the bestest brother in the entire world.

He especially didn't want to admit it to himself!

"Well-- they'd maybe say how great I was," he finally said, trying to quash the memory of his daydream, where they would carry him on their shoulders and pledge their undying loyalty to him and offer to do his chores for him for an entire year...

But he could tell by the amused look in Splinter's eye that the wise Rat had guessed there was more to what he was saying. Donatello's face fell.

"You mean, I only did this for myself?"

"No, but I think that you **became** the focus. As your brothers grew more frustrated with your behavior, your secrecy, you grew more determined, and you justified you actions-- 'wait until they see this, Sensei! They're going to LOVE it!'... That is what you told me-- several times, my son."

Donatello began to cry anew as he realized fully the truth behind Sensei's words. Splinter hugged him even tighter if possible, and laughed.

"My son, do not cry! Do not cry any more, my son, my _Akio_! You are safe now, and things will be better, I promise you."

"Am I gonna get a spanking?" he sobbed into the Rat's warm, furry neck, soaking the fur and the collar of his robe in the process.

Splinter, still laughing, shook his head.

"Not a spanking perhaps, but you will be receiving punishment. Surely you understand that you must be punished. You broke many of my rules, and you placed your life in danger! Surely you understand that."

Sniff-sniff-snifflesniff...

"Yeah... I understand. I can take it."

"That is right. You are brave and resourceful. You survived a tunnel collapse, being lost, and a dog attack. Punishment cannot be any worse than that."

Silence.

"Well, except for spankings," Donatello said sleepily, snuggling his head onto his father's shoulder and closing his eyes.

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"I don't care," Mikey declared heartlessly. "I'm gonna enjoy watching his get his punishment! He shouldn't of stopped wanting us for brothers! He gets what he deserves."

Raph gave Leo a "this is all your fault for saying that in the first place" look, and Leo shrugged. They had been trying and trying to convince Mikey that Don had NEVER said he didn't want them as brothers, but once Mike latched onto something, it was hard to get him to let go.

"Mikey, for the LAST time--" Leo, sighing in frustration, tried again. "Donnie is our brother, and we want him back. He WANTS us as brothers! I was just saying something because of--

"Leonardo! He left us! HE LEFT ME!" Mikey was not to be soothed. His brother had abandoned him, just like the Don Bunny Brother had abandoned his family. The pain was too much! "I hope Splinter gives him TEN spankings! And I want to watch! I want to see Mr. 'Grown-up' Donatello get his tail handed to him! I'm going to laugh and clap and cheer Sensei on! You just wait and see!"

"Mikey--" Raph was trying again when the door opened, and Splinter came in, carrying Don.

"PLEASE DON'T KILL HIM!" Michelangelo shrieked at the top of his voice, nearly tripping his father up and causing Splinter to almost drop the one he was carrying as Michelangelo made a grab for his father's legs, latching on in a fierce hug. "HE didn't mean it! Really! He won't do it again! PLEASE DON'T KILL DONNIE!"

Splinter, looking like he was doing a balancing act on a high wire, made it to the couch before the death-grip pleadings of his youngest sent himself and Donatello falling onto the furniture.

"Hamato Michelangelo!" he snapped at him, and the turtle in question released his grip just a little bit.

"You owe me five cookies," Raph said casually to Leo. "Told you he'd be begging in less than five minutes."

"Five minutes? That wasn't even five seconds," Leo said, shaking his head at the still pleading youngest who was assuring their terrible and powerful Sensei and Father that Don was "just misguided" and "needed understanding" and "please don't KILL HIM!"

Splinter, wondering where on Earth Michelangelo had learned how to use such phrases as "just misguided" and "needed understanding", took a calming breath.

"Michelangelo, please go get something for Donatello to eat. Raphael, I will need the first aid kit in the bathroom. Leonardo, bring me some pajamas and a blanket as well.

One freed of the death grip on his legs, Splinter carried the embarrassed turtle into the bathroom and began running the tub.

"Did you swallow any of the sewer water?" he asked, getting a glass ready.

"NO! NO, I was very careful, Father!" Don, finally finding his voice, assured Splinter. There was no need to make him throw up!

"Here, Father," Raph announced, and then stared hard at Don's now exposed knee and ankle. "Man, Donnie, what the heck did you do to yourself?"

Splinter put the turtle in the bath and bathed him himself, wanting to be sure to clean away all of the sewer contaminants. Indeed, after the first scrubbing, he drained the tub and refilled it with fresh hot water, so he could be sure to prevent as many possible infections as he could-- after all, Donatello had several open wounds!

"The gash on the ankle will not need stitches," he said, causing the turtle in the tub (who had been having a hard time not whimpering and crying out at every application of the soapy rag to his owies) to grin shakily. "Your knee is only sprained. But I suspect that you might have fractured your ankle. We will not know until the swelling goes down. I will wrap it tight and you will stay off of it for several days."

Finally the turtle was dried, bandaged, dressed in warm jammies and wrapped in a blanket, then carried into the living room and set down on the couch. Michelangelo had prepared him some hot cocoa and soup, and was waiting for him with the items sitting on a kitchen chair that was serving as a makeshift table.

"Do you want me to feed you?" he asked his brother, trying to bring a spoonful of the steaming hot chicken broth to Donnie's lips as if he had agreed.

"No, thanks Mikey!" he quickly and carefully took the spoon from his brother. "I can do it myself."

He was so hungry that after that first spoonful, he picked up the bowl and, alternately blowing and sipping, finished it up in no time, noodles, carrots, and all. The hot cocoa followed soon afterwards.

All this time Splinter sat in his chair, watching and waiting. So did the brothers. They sat around Donnie, wanting to ask a million questions and yet waiting for some reason.

Nobody spoke for several minutes after Don had finished his meal.

Don finally grew uncomfortable at being watched by everyone. The silence was growing unbearable.

Yet he didn't know how to begin.

"My sons," Splinter broke the silence, slightly startling them all. "We will discuss this in the morning. For now I wish your brother to go to bed and go to sleep. Donatello, I do not want you walking on that ankle. I will take you to the bathroom now, and if you need anything in the night you must call me! Do not get out of that bed!"

"Yes, Father," he murmured.

"I want the rest of you to get ready for bed as well. You may stay up a little longer."

Soon, Don was tucked into bed and falling asleep. But he kept his struggling eyes open long enough to look at Splinter.

"So, I gotta tell them tomorrow about everything, huh," he said rather than asked.

"Yes. You must tell them tomorrow."

Don sighed.

"I understand. Good night, Father."

"Good night, Akio."

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The dog stretched and yawned. It had been a fairly quiet night after that incident with the rat and the whatever-it-was, and the lump on his head was finally not hurting.

He slowly made his sniffing, panting patrol, startling a few rats and early morning pigeons. The sun was about to come up and soon the place would be busy with customers and such. Perhaps some nice children would be there today, petting him and dropping him pieces of their candy and other treats...

The scent of the Rat reached his sensitive nose; his hackles rose as he realized that his nemesis was back!

Slowly the dog followed the scent, stalking his prey, ready to defend this place against this clothes-wearing animal!

Tensing, he leapt forward, dashing around the mound of junk and launching himself at his enemy-- only to see the creature already disappearing into a tunnel!

Oh, the barking! It was a good thing Splinter did not speak "dog", he would have heard many unkind and untrue things about his mother, his father, and himself as well, along with many promises of a violent and painful death...

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"... and that is why I left," Donnie finished his story. Instead of telling it in the dojo, where he normally would have had to do it, he was telling it in his father's room, where three brothers stared with wide eyes at the new game system, longing to touch their individual controllers but knowing that it was not permitted at the moment.

"Wow," Raph breathed, more from the story than from this wonderful surprise. "You hit the dog with the Jo? AND you got stuck in a cave-in? AND you got lost? MAN, Donnie! That was some ADVENTURE!"

"No it wasn't, Raph," Don asserted from the old rocking chair. Splinter had moved it closer to his bed so Don could sit in it with his injured leg propped up on the mattress. "It was stupid. I nearly got killed, and for what? 'Cause I got my feelings hurt."

"Don, we didn't know you were listening," Leo said. "We didn't mean anything bad by it, you know."

"Mikey was gonna swear a **keppan**."

"I was NOT! Well, I was, but-- well, I was mad, Don! I didn't mean it when I said I meant it-- know what I mean?"

"So, now you all understand why your brother has been so secretive?" Splinter brought the meeting towards its conclusion.

Three heads nodded, eyes torn between staring at this unlooked for surprise and their brainy, thoughtful, oh so marvelous wonderful brother in the rocking chair.

"And now, the punishment," Splinter announced, and Mikey got into pleading position-- but Splinter held him off. "Michelangelo, if you say one word, you will receive Donatello's spanking."

Mikey loved his brother, but not that much. His lips pressed firmly shut even as his hands moved to protect his tail.

"Now, I told you last night that I would not spank you, Donatello," he reminded his son. "But, for leaving the Lair, you are grounded for two months-- and that will start as soon as you are able to walk, so your recovery is NOT a part of the grounding."

"Wow, for a minute there I thought Don was gonna get off easy," Raph whispered to Leo, who nodded in agreement.

"For taking a weapon from the dojo, you are grounded from further trips to the junk yard for an additional two months. When your injuries are healed, you will do your brothers' chores for one month, and I will expect the dojo floor cleaned daily as well, with no help," here he gave yet another warning glance at Michelangelo, who so hated that punishment that he had been known to sneak in and help out."

"Finally-- for putting your life at risk over this system, you are not allowed to play with it."

Three stunned brothers stared at Splinter.

"At-- at all?" Leo managed to get out. Mikey looked as if he was going to cry. Raph's face was clouded as well, thinking this last punishment was unfair.

Splinter returned their gazes calmly.

"Your brother nearly died," he said simply. "He put himself into great danger. He knowingly did many things, and as a result he was nearly killed. I do not want my sons to put themselves in such danger. I cannot do without any of you. This game system was his excuse for disobeying me. He may not play it."

Donnie hung his head. He struggled successfully to not cry.

"Hai, Sensei," he said, bowing in the rocking chair as best as he could.

But it was a bitter blow! Why did Splinter bring him two new controllers early this morning if he was going to ban him from ever playing? Why did he help him decorate the two new ones with stickers? Indeed, Splinter had decorated Donatello's personally! Why do that? Is that what was meant by "rubbing salt into one's wounds"?

Mikey looked at his very own "Mikey" controller with the superheroes stickers, and sighed, and swallowed. Don had gone out because of him. Now Don couldn't even play with it?

"Um, Sensei... since Don can't play with it, then I guess I won't play with it either," he said sincerely.

Splinter looked at his youngest.

"Are you certain?"

Mikey stared and stared at the controller. Then he took a deep, deep breath, put a determined smile on his face, and looked his father in the eye.

"Yes. I'm certain. I'll even swear a **keppan**."

"I'll go get the knife!"

"Raphael!"

"Well," Leo sighed, not wishing to be shown up by his baby brother. "Since Donnie can't play it and Mikey won't play it, I won't play it either."

Then they looked at Raph.

"But it's got racing!" he sputtered. "It's got motorcycle racing!"

"It's okay, Raph," Don said, but Raph shook his head, closing his eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. After a few seconds, he looked calm, and managed to relax.

"No," he said, looking at Don. "Leo's right. I won't play it either. Thanks for doing it though-- not the 'almost getting killed' part; I mean about the game system and all."

"Yeah, thanks Don! It's the bestest thing we've ever gotten-- even if we can't play it!" Mikey grinned, going to his brother and giving him a hug.

Splinter nodded, satisfied.

"Very well," he said. "Since you have all shown such unselfishness and solidarity with your brother, that particular punishment is rescinded. Now, let us turn it on and see how it works."

The shouting was deafening, but Splinter heard every word that Donatello now said.

"Father, I'm so sorry, and I swear I will never do such stupid things again."

"I know, my son, I know," Splinter replied, moving the chair so that Donatello could be closer to the system. "But are you willing to swear a **keppan** on it?"

"I'll go get the knife!"

"RAPHAEL!" everyone shouted.

The End.


End file.
